All The Same
by Alisha Ashton
Summary: Cordy/Doyle denial fic meaning hero never happened . When Doyle gets an unexpected visitor in the middle of the night in the form of Cordelia Chase, a game is set in motion that neither of them were prepared for. Link to trailer for this fic on my profile
1. I don't mind where you come from

_Lyrics from "All the Same" by Sick Puppies_

_"I don't mind where you come from,  
As long as you come to me..."_

* * *

Doyle opened one reluctant, thoroughly baffled eye as a persistent sound jarred him from his hard-earned sleep (_and by hard-earned I am referring to the better portion of a bottle of whisky he had downed before passing out_). With half his face pressing into the couch cushions, he struggled to focus on the glowing red digits of the clock across the room.

**1:38 AM**, just six hours shy of the time he would be waking up for another fun-filled day of enduring head-cracking visions, following Angel through whatever hell said visions put on the agenda, and acting as a personal punching bag for all the nasty critters of the city.

That realization earned a groan of dismay and he quickly decided whatever the noise had been it could not _possibly_ be important enough to get off the couch in order to investigate.

He had just closed his eye again; sleep eagerly drawing him back into its welcomed embrace, when the knock came a second time. His brows drew together in annoyance as he lazily rolled his face to the side enough to cast a suspicious glare at his door. The tapping was entirely too light to be his junkie neighbor asking to bum a smoke…and he knew damned well that a debt collector would have just shouldered their way through or picked the lock by now. Considering those were the only types of visitors he got these days, he was at a loss for who it could be.

Again the knock came, a bit more persistent but still quiet and soft. With a great deal of effort (_and whimpering_), he gracelessly rolled off the couch onto the floor. He swayed a bit as he climbed to his feet, waiting for the room to stop spinning before running a hand over his face in an attempt to wake up.

With a yawn, he shuffled toward the door, snagging the Louisville slugger on the way just to be safe. In his current state, he was sure he would never be able to hit anything but hoped it would make him appear less vulnerable. Not enough time had passed for him to undergo the transition from '_drunk'_ to '_hung-over'_. As such, he found himself staring out the peephole wondering if he had bought a different kind of scotch by mistake. His typical brand had never caused hallucinations.

He stepped back away from the door quickly, blinking repeatedly, rubbing his eyes, and hoping to God he wasn't finally losing his mind. After taking a steadying breath, he leaned in to have another look. Sure as shit, there she remained.

In the dimly lit hallway beyond his door, stood the one, the only, the incomparably gorgeous (_not to mention unwaveringly difficult_) Miss Cordelia Chase.

"What in the name of…?" He breathed, hurriedly unlocking the door and pulling it open, instantly wincing and shielding his eyes as the light stung them. "Delia?" He managed with his features twisted in confusion.

She forced the saddest excuse for a smile he had ever seen in his life and managed a weak, "Hey, Doyle."

"What's…are ya alright? Has something happened?" He asked groggily, his mind finally putting together that if she was here at this hour, there must be trouble.

"I'm fine." She assured him quietly, that pathetic attempt at a smile making a second appearance. She took a deep breath before continuing. "Listen, I know it's late – and I'm sorry for waking you up, I just…"

All right, now she was _really_ waking him up. Had she just _apologized_ to _him_ for rude behavior? He narrowed his eyes on her suspiciously, squinting as he searched for any signs of injury (_or demonic possession…body snatching, perhaps)_ that would explain her entirely uncharacteristic behavior.

After allowing his (_shh, half-demon_) senses to check her over, he found her temperature normal and heart beating strongly in her chest. Both were major pluses – they ruled out the unthinkable (_because he knew damned well he'd never be able to stake her if she ever showed up in at his door a vampish way_).

"No, no worries – just…here, come on in." He stammered as he continued trying to make sense of her presence, stepping back and opening the door wide enough to allow her entry. His eyes followed her as she walked past him into the apartment, a hand absently wandering over his disheveled hair in an attempt to smooth it. "So…what's…?" He tried again as he closed the door. He was too tired (_drunk_) to come up with a less off-putting alternative to the obvious question of _'__**why**__ are you __**here**__?'_

"I was in the neighborhood." She offered softly, sinking down onto his couch and sitting her purse on the coffee table without making eye contact.

Confused would no longer cut it as a description; perplexed, mystified, puzzled…they only skimmed the surface of the level of bafflement she was inflicting. He attempted to rub the sleep from his eyes as he took it all in. _Cordelia…dressed to the nines…in his apartment…after midnight…acting awkward and border-line self-conscious…because she'd been 'in the neighborhood'…_

Who the hell would be out in _this_ neighborhood at _this_ hour? The cops didn't even venture here after dark.

"_Okay_, well…" He scratched his head, wishing she would stop being so abnormally quiet and just ramble to him for five minutes like always about what had led up to her arrival. "Can I get ya anything? Water? Whisky?" He arched a brow at the mental catalogue of his kitchen's contents and confessed. "Yeah, sadly that's all I've to offer."

There was milk; it had just been a few weeks since he had last classified it as '_questionable'_. He curled his lip and made a mental note to toss it as soon as possible.

"No, it's okay, I'm good." Cordelia said, looking up at him and adding a soft. "Thanks, though."

And body-snatching had just resurfaced as a possibility. What in the name of _Christ_ was going on here? Where was the bossy, outspoken, snide, adorably flippant Cordy he knew and worshipped?

He crossed his arms over his chest, the action instantly making him curse in his mind at his attire. With the shape he had been in after he and Angel had finished clearing a demon nest, he had not been up to the challenge of getting changed once he finally made it home. Instead, he had just peeled off a few layers before drinking himself to sleep. He was still wearing pants and an undershirt that likely had remnants of his own blood on them (_which, of course, he'd say belonged to the other guy if questioned_). Nothing he could do about it now, though. It wasn't like he had been expecting any visitors, especially not visitors of the Cordy variety.

That brought him back to the bizarrely out-of-place goddess at hand. He needed to find a way to get an explanation out of her. Usually, once you got her talking all you had to do was stand back and let her rip. He just had to find a question to lead in with. Alright, for starters, why was she dressed like…?

He winced as he remembered the answer to that question. "Date didn't go well, I take it?" He asked, cautiously settling on the other end of the couch.

"_No_." She said quietly, looking down at her nails and swallowing hard. "It _didn't_."

Doyle's brows drew together as he chewed the inside of his cheek and studied her. He had struck a nerve with that one, apparently. So the date with the latest rich boy had gone sour – what would have her all down and timid afterward? It was unsettling to see her like this, like someone had gone and broken her confidence or something.

His eyes widened, the booze instantly losing out to the adrenaline rush which came with a possible answer as to what might have caused her current state. _Oh, __**please**_ _don't let it be that_, he begged in his mind. If it was he'd definitely be all spine-faced here in about two seconds _('Surprise, Cordy!'_) and in jail by sunrise _(_'_Hey_, _Angel – listen, man I'm real sorry but I won't be making it in to work…ever. You'll just have to visit the penitentiary every few days to see if I've had a vision.')_

He found that his mouth had gone impossibly dry once he fought to form words. "He _didn't_…? I mean, did he _try_…?" He asked in a strained voice.

Cordy's head immediately came up, her expression both shocked and apologetic as she realized the worry she had unintentionally put in his mind. "_No!_ God, no – nothing like that, _really_." She assured as she turned to face him, reaching over and squeezing his hand. "I'm fine, Doyle. I promise."

The color rushed back to his face as relief passed over him, which of course was instantly replaced by surprise at the way she was sitting so closely and holding his hand in hers. He let out a sigh and locked eyes with her, no longer able to dance around the subject.

"Then tell me what's happened, princess. What's got ya here in the middle of the night all sad like this?" He asked worriedly.

She frowned as the sincerity in his gaze nearly opened the floodgates, looking down at his hand and _away_ from those sparkling blue eyes while she explained. "He was just…he just _wasn't_, you know? So I told him to take me back to the office…but it made him mad. I've never had it make a guy mad like that before."

She left out the fact that she had made _all_ of her dates take her back to the office; she just wasn't finding a connection with any of them. This wasn't the time to wonder at her inability to date, though.

"So out of _nowhere_ he started screaming and saying all these really mean things…" She cleared her throat, recalling some of his words and taking a deep breath. "Just really hurtful things so we argued…and then he dropped me off on the side of the road and took off."

She shrugged as if it was no big deal but even with the way she was trying to keep her face down Doyle could spot the tears forming in her eyes. He watched her sympathetically, shaking his head as he rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. It was the safest act of comfort he could offer. They definitely weren't on hugging terms but she really looked like she could use one.

"Where?" He asked in barely more than a whisper when he focused on her high heels for the first time. They had seen a great deal of use since she had left the office, that was for sure.

"I don't know exactly." She said, her bottom lip trembling as she continued. "I think it took me about an hour to get here."

It surprised her how comforting she found the deep breath Doyle took in response to that confession to be. Wandering the streets of the neighborhood she had been ditched in at night, alone, dressed the way she was, would be dangerous enough _without_ the threat of vampires and demons. She still couldn't believe that she had made it…or understand why she hadn't gone to the office instead. It would have taken less time and her car was there. She fought back tears, her brows drawing together once again wondering at her instinctive desire to come talk to him about her problems.

"_Jesus_…" Doyle breathed, shaking his head and closing his eyes. "Cordy…I am _so_ sorry, love." He offered genuinely.

That did her in; the floodgates were now officially open. She leaned forward and (_much to the shock of both of them_) wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him as she hid her face against his chest and broke down.

His eyes snapped open and he looked down at her in stunned disbelief for a second. By some miracle he managed to push his astonishment aside, holding her as she curled up against him.

"Shh…it's alright…you're alright now…" He whispered as she wept.

"He dropped me off in the _ghetto_ with the _hookers_, Doyle." She sobbed and he held her tighter, clenching his jaw furiously. "He drove all the way out there just because he said that's where I belonged."

_Why did it make her feel better to tell him this?_

Doyle scanned a list of phone numbers in his mind; unsavory types who would visit the bastard and provide him with a lengthy stay in an ICU. What he would have to do to repay that type of favor…_eh_, not something he wanted to contemplate. Let's just say Angel, the police and the Lord Almighty would not look kindly upon it. On some level Doyle was seriously praying that this guy was a demon or vamp. At least then Angel wouldn't have any qualms about helping to kill him. _It would certainly make getting rid of the body a hell of a lot easier_…

Plotting would have to wait, though. He had a sobbing Cordelia in his arms who was looking to _him _for support for some unfathomable reason. All he could do was hold her as she let it out, run his hands through her hair and assure her that she was safe, that it was over.

When she finally sat up she did not pull away from him, instead she looked into his eyes and asked softly, "Doyle, do you…" Her voice cracked and she tried again. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

His eyes widened and jaw fell open at the absolute absurdity of the question.

_Is the pope catholic?  
Does a bear shit in the woods?  
Is brooding an integral part of Angel's daily routine?_

"Why would ya even ask tha? Ya _know_ you're gorgeous, princess! It's not just a matter of _me_ thinking it." He assured her before adding, "Which by the way, I most definitely _do_." He insisted as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Look, that guy didn't even deserve to be in your _presence_ let alone on a date with ya and he damned well knew it. Whatever he said was a sad attempt to drag ya down to his level and _I know_ you're not gonna take any of it to heart, yeah?" Her bottom lip was sticking out and he put a hand under her chin, looking into her eyes intensely. "Because Cordelia Chase doesn't take crap from anyone; not ghosts, not vamps, not demons and _especially_ not dirt-bags, _right_?" He coaxed, arching a brow and waiting for her agreement.

She sniffled and nodded with tears still streaming down her cheeks. He sighed, shaking his head at the sight of her in that moment.

"Come here." He said, pulling her back to him as she quickly returned to her former position of clinging. "Listen to me, darling – you're too good for _every_ guy _everywhere_ and don't ya ever forget tha. _You_ decide what's best for you, won't settle for anything less and rightly so. Let's face it – you're one hellof a catch. When ya meet a man who has what you're looking for he'll be thanking his lucky stars for the rest of his life that he has you. So just forget about this clown." He told her, then scowled and corrected himself. "W_ait_…scratch that – don't 'just forget about this clown' until _after_ you've jotted down his name for me." He added and she laughed softly through her tears.

All right, it was still strange to hear her laughing sweetly at his jokes (_seriously, though – he intended to get the guy's name_) but at least it was an improvement over her bawling. After several moments, it became apparent that she did not plan to move off of him in the near future. He made himself comfortable against the couch, closing his eyes and settling in for the long haul.

It might have been ten minutes or so later when confusion hit again. He must have dozed off because the pleasant sensation at the side of his neck did not ring any warning bells in his mind at first.

His eyes snapped open the instant he realized the source. Warning _GONGS_ were now sounding.

"Hey…_hey, hey, hey_…" He breathed in shock. _Cordelia…was kissing…his neck_. He craned his head back enough to look her in the eyes, getting a grip on her upper arms and urging her away from him. "Cordy, what are ya…?" He asked while his mind suffered a massive meltdown.

She looked up at him with equal confusion, not understanding the problem. Maybe she wasn't making herself clear here. "I just thought…" She said softly, reaching up and pushing the strap of her dress off of her shoulder, watching his eyes lock on the invitation. She leaned forward, bringing her lips toward his but his hands on her arms held her at bay.

"_Whoa_, princess; slow down just a bit for me. What exactly are ya doing?" He asked worriedly. _Maybe he wasn't the only one who'd been drinking to excess tonight. _

Cordelia couldn't begin to understand what the problem was. "Well I wanted to…you know…_be_ with you." She offered, searching his eyes for the joy that statement should have invoked.

It didn't come – and even more perplexing than his lack of grinning, was the fact that her words seemed to have the _opposite_ of the intended effect. She watched in hopeless confusion as he instantly tensed, all humor leaving his features.

"That's _not_ 'being with me', princess." He said quietly and shook his head, clenching his jaw at how quickly this had gotten out of hand. "Look, you're needing support which is fine; I get that – and hey, I'm here. Ya had the night from hell and don't want to be alone…totally understandable, I'll keep ya company. Just…not like that, all right?" He asked, his eyes searching hers imploringly.

Cordelia stared at him in disbelief for at least a minute, words failing her as she struggled to take this in.

"Well why the hell not?" She finally demanded in wounded shock. What was _wrong_ with her tonight? How in God's name was _Doyle_ turning her down? He was the one guy she never questioned her ability to snag in a heartbeat…not that she should have ever wanted to, of course.

He took a deep, staggered breath, looking into her eyes intensely. "First you tell me _why_."

She moved away from him, growing steadily more annoyed by his lack of response. "I have to have a _reason_?" She demanded with an arched brow as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Doyle closed his eyes for a second as parts of him continued adamantly protesting his decision. "Yeah, princess." He told her as he looked back at her once more. "Ya do."

If looks could kill, his coffee table would have fallen to a pile of smoking debris as she avoided his gaze. She did not need to _explain_ herself. He should have been _ecstatic _that she was actually offering to give him a one-nighter. After several moments of heated silence, she decided to give him a chance; she guessed she owed it to him after barging in on him in the middle of the night. "I want comfort." She said honestly, turning and expecting to see a smile on his face.

Only there was none, just a sympathetic look and twinges of sadness in those blue eyes. "Is that it?" He asked softly.

Cordelia's mouth hung open. "_Is that…? _What is _wrong_ with you? Yeah, '_that's it'_. Why am I facing an inquisition here?" She demanded. "You know if this is the kind of hassle a girl has to go through to get you into bed, _no wonder_ you're single." She snapped, but part of her flinched the instant the words fell from her lips. She did not want to be mean to Doyle; he just brought it out of her…_a lot _for some reason.

Doyle let out a soft, bitter laugh and nodded, sighing and studying her. "So _all_ you want is comfort then?" He asked and watched her posture change as if she was gearing up for a victory.

"That's what I _said_, isn't it?" She answered coldly.

"_Fine_." He said in an equally unfeeling tone as he climbed from the couch. "That's all you'll get."

The sound of his voice stung her as effectively as a slap. She had never heard him speak to her with anything short of sweetness before. Somehow his face suddenly seemed different– there was something missing in his eyes that she couldn't place. _They weren't sparkling anymore_…

She watched in confusion as he took her hand in his and urged her to climb to her feet. As soon as she was standing, he turned away from her. Even his hand on hers felt…impersonal. _No _talking_, no _joking_, no _smiling as he led her to his bedroom.

He closed the door behind them, walking past her and stretching out on the bed as she watched him with uncertainty passing over her features.

"Well? Come here then." He said impatiently, once again in that icy tone, and motioned to the space beside him on the small mattress.

She wrung her hands as she stared at him worriedly. This was not the Doyle she got coffee and joked around with, this was someone different entirely and she did not like it. The hesitance she was suddenly feeling made the short distance to the bed seem impossibly far as she walked over to it.

_Maybe this was a mistake, why was he acting like this? It was supposed to be sweet. She'd always figured that if she decided to use him for a night it would be romantic and tender, that he'd be 'thanking his lucky stars' – isn't that what he'd said a man would do if they had her? What the hell had gone wrong? He hadn't spent the expected hour kissing her, telling her she was beautiful, undressing her like he was unwrapping the greatest gift he'd ever receive. Why?_

Slowly she sat on the bed beside him, trying to read his eyes in the dimly lit room. There was still no sparkle there, no adoration for her like she was used to seeing.

He sighed impatiently and reached up to wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her down to lie on the mattress with her back to him. She tensed at his touch. _Good_, he thought to himself. She needed to understand something important here.

Cordelia held her breath, wondering what she had done for the longest minute of her life. It was wrong. Everything was all _wrong_.

She didn't want Doyle like _this_.  
_Wait, she didn't want Doyle like __**anything**__, right? _

It wasn't at all how she'd envisioned it.  
_Good God, how many times __**had**__ she envisioned it?_

She was rigid when she finally felt him moving closer to her, her mind reeling at the loss of what she had hoped for.  
Her eyes widened in shock. _Now wait just a damned minute, __**hoped**__ for? Since when? _Had she actually wanted this on some level to the point where she'd been _hoping_ for it?

_**No**_.

_Maybe a little_.

She rolled her eyes as she finally answered herself truthfully.  
_Fine,_ _**yes**_. But now it was done, and it wasn't right, and somehow she felt like it was all her fault for forcing the issue.

But WHY? Doyle had always been interested in her, where had she gone wrong here? He'd asked a question and then _wham!_ Total personality change. So she had answered wrong. That must have been what messed this up. He had asked why she wanted to do this and she had said all she wanted was…

To her confusion Doyle curled his body around her and kissed the back of her hair. His hand found hers, entwining their fingers as he held her close…but he didn't make a move past that.

Comfort_. _

_Doyle, you little rat bastard_. She sighed in frustration (_and was that a touch of relief?_) as she realized this was all she was getting.

"Very funny." She breathed in annoyance.

"Actually it's not." He answered with a smile evident in his voice.

She quickly rolled over in his arms to face him. "So you mean to tell me that you're going to use the _one chance_ you get with me in your bed…to_ cuddle_ me?" She asked skeptically and he laughed. Despite herself she smiled at the sound and the fact that the sparkle was back in his eyes. She rested her head on his pillow and marveled at how such subtle differences in his expression could have such an impact on her level of relaxation.

"Look, princess – once it's done it's done, no taking it back after, yeah? Not to say I'm not interested cuz that'd be the biggest lie ever told, you know damned well how much I want to…" He trailed off, deciding against finishing that sentence for fear it would break his resolve. Instead of words, he gave a sly smile and eyebrow waggle; judging by the laugh it earned that he had properly conveyed his point.

Taking a deep breath, he studied her eyes for a moment, forcing himself to explain. "See, the thing of it is…that's not _all_ I want from you. You're worth a whole lot more than just the physical fun to be had." He told her quietly and more importantly, _sincerely_.

Cordelia fought the glowing smile that wanted to form in response to those words. "Did I mention '_one chance_'?" She asked with an arched brow.

Doyle shook his head and sighed. "Maintaining the possibility of ever having something _meaningful_ with you is worth the risk of missing out on something _meaningless_."

Despite her best efforts she did smile at that.

"And besides…" He began, closing his eyes as she curled up closer to him, tucking her face under his chin and wrapping her arm around him. "Least I'll have the memory of having you here in bed with me to warp into something wicked and perverse should the need arise."

Cordelia laughed and pinched his back.

"_Owww_, but it's true!" Doyle insisted which only made her laugh more.

"Shut up." She said as she shook her head. "Goodnight, Doyle." She whispered against his chest.

"Goodnight, princess." He whispered back with a smile and kissed the top of her head.

* * *

**To read is fine,  
To review is divine! **


	2. But I don't like illusions

_"But I don't like illusions,  
I can't see them clearly.  
I don't care, no I wouldn't dare  
To fix the twist in you.  
You've shown me  
Eventually what you'll do..._

_I don't mind, I don't care  
As long as you're here."_

* * *

The next morning he awoke to a decidedly cold and empty place beside him on the bed. He rolled over, looking at the clock and yawning, sitting up and listening for any indication that she was still around. A shuffled exploration of the apartment revealed that she had already taken off and he worried for a moment that he had dreamt the whole thing up.

Walking into the bathroom provided confirmation that it had been real. He laughed at his reflection, nodding and smiling as he turned his face to the side. There on his cheek was the perfect lipstick imprint of the kiss she must have placed before taking off. It was the same shade as the lipstick that had written two letters on his mirror: _'TY'_.

"You're welcome." He said with a grin, inspecting the kiss on his cheek again and wondering how long he could postpone washing it off. Grudgingly, he had taken a shower and though his cheek had been the very last thing scrubbed, the evidence of her kiss was eventually washed down the drain. The memory of it wasn't going anywhere.

No hangover could hope to diminish his borderline chipper mood as he made his way to the office. For a man who had given up an opportunity to spend the night in various states of sweaty bliss with the girl of his dreams, he was surprisingly content. He hadn't screwed it up, hadn't let his desire for her effect his better judgment – no matter what came, he had that to cling to.

And it was a good thing he did because '_no matter what_' came in the form of the usual snide remarks from Cordelia when he pushed the door to the reception area.

"Good Morning, princess." Doyle said with a grin.

"_Ugh_, you're late." Cordelia growled in annoyance. "_Surprise, surprise_." She breathed as she rolled her eyes. She continued writing without so much as even looking up at him.

Doyle faltered; he would admit that, if ever so slightly upon seeing her response. He was not entirely sure what he had been expecting. He was certain, however, that it was not her going on as if the night before had never happened. All right, maybe he could have handled a stern (_snotty_) talking-to about how it would 'never happen again' and what she would do if he ever breathed a word about it to another, but she was discounting history as if she'd had the Oracles rewrite it, for crying out loud!

"Oversleep?" Angel asked as he walked out to the coffeepot and poured himself a mug.

"What?" Doyle asked distractedly as he studied Cordelia but finally snapped out of it, turning back to Angel. "_Oh_. Yeah." He said, nodding and clearing his throat. "Was sore when I got home…didn't manage to fall asleep for a while." He offered unconvincingly as his eyes wandered back to her. "Guess once I did I must've crashed pretty hard."

Angel nodded, crossing his arms over his chest and watching Doyle take his usual seat on the couch to read the paper. He smirked into his coffee mug as his eyes passed back and forth between them, enjoying the level of denial he was witnessing. He wondered vaguely whether either of them realized how strong the scent of Doyle had been on her when she arrived that morning. He could not help but amuse himself by watching them dodge questions, had been eagerly awaiting Doyle's arrival just so he could interrogate them jointly.

"So, Cordy – how'd the date go last night?" He asked casually.

"Like _hell_. Trust me, that name has been crossed out of my phonebook with a _sharpie_." She said bitterly.

"Really? What happened?" Angel pressed. He was dying to know how a bad date had resulted in her spending the night with the half-demon who was currently shielding his face from view with the Sports section.

"Nothing I want to talk about." She breathed flippantly.

"Aw, come on – you said it yourself, I can't date. I need to hear from someone suffering through it exactly what I'm _not_ missing." He said with a smile.

She waved her hand dismissively and continued looking _extra_ busy. "He was just a jerk, that's all."

"Well he couldn't have been _that_ much of a jerk. I mean, your car was parked here until at least sunrise." Angel said, smirking as Cordelia shifted in her seat and Doyle flipped to the next page loudly.

"I…caught a cab home." She lied. Actually she had waited for the sun to come up, walked all the way to the office to get her car, raced home to get changed, and _somehow_ managed to get to work on time.

"Oh – but I thought you were broke." Angel commented.

"He paid." She answered quickly.

"Why didn't he just drive you to your place?" He asked.

Cordelia scowled up at him and managed through clenched teeth, "Because I don't make it a habit of letting freaks, well – other than the_ two of you_ – know where I live."

Angel grinned at that. Nicely played, she had even managed to sneak in a preemptive insult to Doyle. "Well, you should probably take off your jewelry and put it in your desk." He said nonchalantly and watched her eyes go wide, her hand going to the diamond necklace and earrings she had forgotten to take off from the night before. "I'm not having you tell me I owe you if you lose them in the sewer or something today."

_Ah, the sight of guilt-ridden squirming in the morning_. He waited for her to tuck the jewelry into her desk drawer before moving on to the other victim. "So, _Doyle_ – did you catch the game last night?"

Doyle sighed, folding the paper and arching a brow at Angel. He knew exactly what the bastard was up to and wondered what Cordy had done to clue him in. "Nope, can't say that I did." He told him as he tossed the paper onto the table.

"Really? Well you said you didn't fall asleep for a while – I just figured you wouldn't have missed it." Angel said, smiling knowingly and tilting his head to the side.

"Bad reception, what can ya do?" Doyle said dryly, shaking his head at the game he was currently an unwilling participant in. "Ended up watching infomercials, bud."

"Wow, that's tough." Angel commented as he stood up straight. He took a sip from his coffee, leaving them to sit in tense silence before he took what had the potential to be the winning shot. "Oh, by the way – you've got something on your face."

Cordelia's head instantly came up and Doyle's hand darted to his cheek.

_It's good! And the crowd goes wild!_ Shot in the dark but hey, it worked. She usually did not put on her lipstick until she got to the office but, low and behold, she had arrived with a fresh coat that morning.

Doyle turned and looked at Cordelia who quickly leaned forward for an inspection. "I don't see anything." She commented with a great deal of relief in her voice.

"Really? Thought I saw something, he must've wiped it off." Angel said with a shrug before walking back into his office to celebrate his victory discretely.

Cordelia avoided Doyle's gaze and went back to looking busy and for some strange reason…he let her.

Something told him to leave it alone. So she wanted to pretend it never happened? That was fine with him – he knew it had. True, this '_no matter what'_ scenario was proving to suck supremely but he would have to go with it. No good would come of mentioning something she apparently did not want to acknowledge.

* * *

Life went on as usual, with all the attempted flirting on his part and brutal rejection on hers. Days turned to weeks and he had to give Angel credit, it took nearly two before his curiosity got the better of him. Whether he had been hoping to lull him into a false sense of security or just waiting for the most opportune moment, Doyle was not sure.

At last a night came where Cordelia had left early, presumably for a date though she had not given a reason. He and Angel were alone in the eerily quiet office researching spells to kill the latest un-killable baddy in their lives and, call it a hunch, he'd just _known_ it was coming.

"She's off to another disaster, huh?" Angel asked casually.

Doyle arched a brow, smirking down at the book he was reading. "Another?" He asked in a similar tone.

"Well I'm assuming the last one was considering she didn't want to tell the truth about it." Angel said with a shrug.

"Oh? Didn't notice she'd lied." Doyle said.

A moment of silence passed before Angel sighed and snapped his book shut. Doyle smiled knowingly.

"You're _really_ not going to talk to me about this?" Angel demanded indignantly.

Doyle laughed when he looked up and found an expression of supreme frustration on the vampire's face. "And you're _really_ worryin this much about it?" He countered, tossing his book on the desk and crossing his arms over his chest.

"No." Angel said, reaching for another book and lasting all of two seconds before changing his response and abandoning the text. "Yes!" He insisted impatiently. _Doyle was his friend, damn it – why was he in the dark about this?_ "You come to me for _months_ telling me how crazy you are about her. Then one morning she shows up wearing your scent like the latest designer fragrance but you don't say anything to me about it. Neither of you have slipped up so I could bring it out into the open, either. Not even _once_ – and trust me, I've been listening. Like if she'd mentioned leaving something at your apartment, or if you'd said something like 'when you were over' but _nothing_. What the _hell_ is going on around here?" Angel asked huffily and glared at Doyle when he burst out laughing. "This is _not_ funny."

"Oh, bud – I gotta disagree with ya there." Doyle said, cracking up for another minute before nodding and trying to appear as serious as his perturbed friend. "Look, I didn't mention it cuz nothing happened. She had a bad night, showed up at my place…"

"_Spent a few hours attached to you_…" Angel added in annoyance. "That classifies as 'something' happening." He said as he pointed at him.

"Yeah, but not 'attached' in the best sense of the word, my friend…and not for a lack of trying on…" He stopped abruptly, somehow feeling like he should not be talking about it. He chewed the inside of his cheek and stared at Angel worriedly.

"What? '_Not for a lack of trying on_' your part? What were you about to say?" Angel asked, narrowing his eyes on his friend suspiciously as he tried to figure out what would have caused the sudden derailment. His eyes widened a second later as realization hit him. "Wait…on _her_ part?" He asked in astonishment, sitting forward in intrigue and resting his arms on his desk. "Doyle…" He said sternly, arching a brow and scowling. "Out with it."

Secrets were one thing, he could understand the need for secrets – he was a **big** fan of privacy. _However, _this was _Doyle, _the guy who told him _everything_, and it was about _Cordelia. _Since he had very decidedly been silently rooting for these two to get together since they met, he felt he deserved to be kept in the know.

Doyle sighed and shifted in his chair, rubbing his face and a dozen other little fidgety things he could come up with before having to speak. "Yeah, on _her_ part." He finally said quietly.

Angel tilted his head to the side. "So then…_you_…said…_no_?"

"Yup." Doyle answered awkwardly, nodding his head and clearing his throat.

"And…you said no…_why_?" Angel asked in bewilderment.

"For starters I still haven't told her about me being half-demon…" Doyle offered as he averted his eyes.

"And…?" Angel pressed, beyond curious to hear the rest of this.

"Fine, you want to know the real reason?" He breathed, leaning forward and covering his face for a second, his body once again telling him it hadn't approved of his decision in the least. "Because that wouldn't be enough." He moaned into his hands. When he finally stopped kicking himself for it and looked up, he arched a brow at the smile on Angel's face. "_What_?" He asked defensively. "Does this mean I get a gold star in the 'eternal abstinence' column of my employee review, then? Bound to be cause for a raise around here."

Angel (as rare a sound as it was) laughed openly at that. "No, no gold star – but you do get an impressed nod of approval for your restraint." He told him and proceeded to give said nod.

Doyle groaned and slouched in his chair as Angel watched him sympathetically. "Ya know it's one of those things where it seems like a _real_ _good_ decision at the time…but then she went and knocked me right back to square one for it. Makes a man second guess being decent and such when it gets him punished." He griped. "And afterward I figured, hey – maybe it's not so bad that I didn't make with the one night of bliss, maybe this'll get her to stop and think a little. Apparently not, she's out with another _yutz_ right now and here I am back where I started. Sad thing is? It wasn't even a _bluff_." He confessed. "Second guessing aside I'm still, _God help me_, actually glad I didn't do it." He said bitterly before adding, "Well, _most_ of me is, anyway."

"You did the right thing." Angel said with a shrug. "And honestly, in my experience the right thing is almost always a lot more painful than the wrong thing."

"Oh, yeah – thanks a _bunch_. I feel a whole lot better now." Doyle said sarcastically.

"I didn't say it would make you feel better – I said it was honest." Angel reminded, holding his hands up. "But fine, let's say you _had_ gone through with it, then what? The next day she would have been three times bitchier to you than usual, kept you as far away as possible and you definitely would have regretted not telling her about your demon half beforehand. The two of you would have been together that one time, sure – but you would have destroyed any chance you had with her beyond that."

"That's what I _told her!_" Doyle whined. "Aw hell, who am I kidding? I should just accept it; I'm doomed to a life of Cordelia-lessness. See? Maybe _this_ is why I didn't mention it to you; sounds even more hopeless aloud than it does in me head."

Angel smirked. "_No_, you didn't mention it because _she_ didn't mention it – and you were just trying to do what she wanted by keeping it under wraps. The problem with that is you know damned well that I already knew."

"Yeah, yeah – wasn't sure how though. Damned vamp nose of yours." Doyle said, waving his hand at him and sighing. "So what do I do now, bud? You're the expert."

Angel considered it for a moment. "Spend a lot of time sitting alone in the dark in deep thought?" He offered and smiled at the cry of indignation the suggestion earned.

"To hell with _tha_." Doyle moaned. "I ever catch myself brooding professionally, I'll find a spell to forget about it just as much as _she_ has."

"She didn't forget." Angel assured him.

"Well she sure as hell ain't _remembering_." Doyle countered. He scowled in silence for several moments before slapping his hands down on the arms of the chair and hauling himself upright. "Alright, enough about this before I find a nice, cozy bottle to crawl into…well, earlier than I'm already intending to. I've decided I'm gonna take the route of repression." He said with a smile as he held a hand out for another book. "Bring on the dead languages and other such means of distraction."

Angel smirked and handed him a heavy volume. "Whatever works for you, I still say brooding helps."

* * *

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To review is divine!**


	3. Hours slide and days go by

_"Hours slide and days go by  
Til you decide to come,  
But in-between  
It always seems too long, suddenly  
__  
But I have the skill, yeah I have the will,  
To breath you in while I can  
However long you stay  
Is all that I am..._

_I don't mind, I don't care,  
As long as you're here..."_

* * *

Doyle sighed and nuzzled closer to the warm, soft form lying beside him in the bed. Those pleasant sensations were at the side of his neck once more and for a moment he was under the false impression that he was dreaming.

Soft fingertips tracing up his back shattered that belief and he smiled, speaking up with his eyes still closed. "Back again?" He asked in a hoarse whisper.

"As it turns out you're an exceptional cuddler." Cordelia told him, smiling as he opened his sleepy eyes and looked down at her.

"How in the world did ya get in here?" He asked with a smirk.

"I have my ways." She told him cryptically.

Doyle arched an amused brow and moved his face closer to hers on the pillow. "Check out Cat-Burglar-Cordy; does she come with a ski mask and flashlight?" He asked and she rolled her eyes. "Just outta curiosity did your 'ways' involve cracking me doorframe or did ya go out and find yourself a bump-key?"

"What's a '_bump-key'_?" She asked in confusion and he laughed.

"Something ya use to break into a place without causing any damage…ya know, so I've _heard_." He told her and she gave him a skeptical smile.

"Well I found an easier way, I just swiped Angel's key and had a copy made." She confessed.

He gave her an impressed nod. "_Nicely done_; did he catch ya?" He asked, propping his head up on his hand to get a better look at her.

"No, I waited until you were both out of the office and put it back before he noticed." She told him.

"Quite determined to get back in my bed, yeah?" He teased. "But just between you and me – as long as the end result was having ya here I'd have forgiven a broken door frame." He said with a wink.

"Duly noted." She said before deciding to make him squirm a little. "You know, you're a lot furrier than I'd figured." She commented casually and watched his eyes widen.

_Shit._

He sighed recalling that he'd actually fallen asleep in his bed, under the covers and in boxers tonight. With a brow arching steadily higher he ran his hand experimentally over her back and found a staggeringly small amount of clothing on her as well.

"You evil little temptress!" Doyle laughed and watched her grin triumphantly. "Answer's still the same though, no matter how much…" His eyes widened as his hand continued defiantly wandering over the small of her back. "Is this silk?" He whimpered and she nodded. He let out a staggered sigh and cleared his throat, finally forcing his hand to rest against her motionlessly. "Right, like I was saying – the answer's still the same no matter how much…or how _little_ silk ya happen to be wearing under the covers."

_And please let it __**stay**__ under the covers, _he pleaded silently. The image his mind was painting of what she must be wearing was torture enough; he didn't think he could handle actually _seeing_ it.

"Whatever you say." She told him with a shrug of feigned innocence, rolling over and pressing back against him. A victorious smile came to her lips as he instantly uttered a stream of thickly accented curses behind her.

Spooning was far more persuasive given their current state of (_un_)dress. He backed away, which she originally assumed would have been to take care of any necessary…_adjustments_…but to her great dismay, she felt a pillow being placed between them.

She rolled over again quickly, staring at him in abject disbelief. "Are you freaking _serious_?" She cried.

"As cancer, princess." He said with a sigh.

"But…but _why_?" She demanded.

"Ya already know the answer to tha." He told her and she growled in frustration seeing twinges of sadness in his eyes like before. "And your answer to the same?" He asked.

"Because…" She trailed off and fought to come up with a better answer this time around.

_Damn him! Why was she laying here in bed with him in a Victoria's Secret negligee __**explaining**__ herself? _

"I want…to know you." She offered but only earned a skeptical smile.

"Talking does tha, love." He told her.

"Fine, I want to know your _touch_." She tried.

_There, that was pretty enough, right? What did she have to do, write poetry for this guy to get him to put out?_

"And ya _are_, you're lying right here all cuddled up against me." He said with a smirk.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" She growled.

"Having ya in my bed? Damned right I am." He told her.

"Then kiss me." She insisted and he laughed.

"_Definitely_ not." He said adamantly.

"_Why_ not?" She huffed.

Doyle sighed. "Cuz it wouldn't stop at kissing and ya know tha – which is precisely why ya want me to do it in the first place."

"And would that be the end of the world? How are you _possibly_ still talking to me? Do you know how much this damned nighty _cost_?" She asked indignantly.

He laughed and shook his head. "Well it's much appreciated – hence the pillow." He assured her, getting a firm grip on it in case she intended to snatch it away from him. It was currently the only thing keeping him in check.

She leaned in closer to him, staring into his eyes determinedly. "_Kiss_. _Me_." She demanded. It was no longer important that she could just kiss him and break his will; it was the principle of the thing. _He_ should be the one kissing _her_.

"Not even if ya said 'please'." He joked.

She frowned at that, deciding to give it a try. "_Please_?" She said quietly and watched a sad smile come to his lips.

After a moment he offered, "When you're leaving and we're both dressed…that is, if you intend to wake me up before ya go this time?" He asked with an arched brow.

She grinned and nodded, then immediately found herself annoyed at how much she was looking forward to it. It was just a kiss and it wouldn't even be coming for several hours.

"You're such a retard." She grumbled angrily as she settled down on the bed in front of him.

"Ah, such sweet words of seduction come from your lips." He said with a feigned blissful sigh, raising his arm for her as she slid under it and nuzzled against his chest.

He woke up the next morning to movement on the bed beside him, surprised as hell to find her still there. Apparently, she had already gotten up and done her morning routine. No woman awoke with hair that perfect or breath that fresh – he didn't know who she was trying to kid. By the way she was sitting so comfortably beside him, he knew she had been watching him sleep and grinned as he looked up at her.

"Well, well…" He said as he stretched. "Ya didn't race outta here like last time, gotta say I'm impressed." He teased and she rolled her eyes.

"Any longer and I was gonna give up on you." She told him. "Now get your ass up and brush your teeth, I'm not kissing you with morning breath." She ordered and he shook his head.

"Just as pleasant in the morning as ya are at night, I see." He laughed, kissing her cheek and _grudgingly_ climbing from the bed. Why was he being forced to walk around for inspection while she stayed hidden under the…?

There was an eighteen car pileup in his head the instant she stood. His jaw nearly dislocated it fell open so fast.

Alright, so her staying under the covers would have made this a great deal easier.

Cordelia flashed him a grin, enjoying his stunned expression and the way he was suddenly frozen in place. "See? _That's_ 'appreciating' the nighty." She said, pointing over at the clock and adding. "Hurry up and you might be able to get a bit more appreciation in before we go."

He whimpered and managed by some miracle to reach the bathroom, closing the door and leaning against it for a few minutes willing his body to calm down. She had better figure this out soon, he did not know how much more he could stand. Maybe she would recognize that a sudden need had _arisen_ for a cold shower… Then again the damned lock was broken and he _really_ did not want to consider his chances for continued restraint if she decided to pop in.

To his surprise, he found a second toothbrush in the holder on his sink. He smiled at the sight, her hairbrush and everything else she had brought had been packed away but there the toothbrush remained, sitting there just like it owned the place.

The illustrious Ms. Chase intended to be making this a routine, it would seem.

He finished up and walked out into his room, his breath catching in his throat and a hand gripping the doorframe for support finding her still wearing the dreaded negligee. "Ya really need to cover that up before I hurt myself, princess." He groaned.

She grinned triumphantly. "I never said anything about making it easier for you to reject me, bub." She informed him matter-of-factly.

"It's _not_ rejection." He insisted.

"Whatever you want to call it." She said, walking over to her bag and pulling a shirt and pants free. "Me being in your bed with you all night and you turning me down sounds an awful lot like rejection to me."

"Cordy, I told ya why." He whined, gripping the doorframe harder as she got to work hiking up the pants with her back to him.

"Yeah, yeah." She said dismissively, buttoning her jeans and reaching for the shirt. "I did a lot of thinking about your so called 'reasons' and I've decided something."

He really, _really_ tried not to moan as she pulled the little silk garment of temptation off over her head, exposing to his view the full length of her bare back. The noises refused to be affected by his efforts to contain them.

"Really? What's tha?" He asked in a strained voice.

She grinned at him over her shoulder, the sight of it nearly causing him to faint. "_You_ aren't _telling_ me something."

He swallowed with a great deal of effort, staring at her fearfully as she pulled on her tank-top and turned to face him.

"And that guilty look just confirmed it." She said knowingly as she crossed the room to reach him.

He averted his eyes and cleared his throat.

"So that means we've got ourselves quite the dilemma." She commented, crossing her arms over her chest determinedly. "You want me to answer your million dollar question correctly…and God only knows what the right answer will be. I want you to fess up to whatever it is that has you making up rules to avoid us doing this together."

Doyle chewed the inside of his cheek, nodding his acknowledgement of the problem at hand.

"Good. We're agreed. Those two items get cleared up and the nighty comes back for another round, deal?" She said with a grin.

He tried to fight the smile that was forming on his lips to no avail. "Deal," he conceded.

"So…?" She said, waiting for him to look her in the eyes.

And when he did, something unexpected happened.

Those sparkling, happy, adoring blue eyes seemed to catch fire. They were practically smoldering suddenly. His features were now…whoa, when did this happen…devastatingly attractive to her. How had she not noticed before how hot he was?

That was the last thought to cross her mind before he was stepping forward and taking her breath away. His hand went to the back of her head, his fingers tangling through her hair with the ease of a man who had spent countless hours envisioning what he wanted to do with her. Those eyes burned into hers with such intensity that her heart fluttered inside her chest.

And then his lips were on hers, tender and sweet for an instant, then changing to something more starved, more passionate. She opened her mouth, moaning softly into his as he took the invitation and began kissing her deeply. His tongue was far more talented than it had a right to be, she decided through the fog of pleasure.

The wall was behind her back now. She knew he must have put her there, though she had no memory of moving from one point to the next. The only sensations that mattered were his hand in her hair, his ravenous kiss, and the way his fingertips were tracing across her collarbone so teasingly.

It took her a good, long moment to realize he had pulled away.

She fought to focus once she opened her eyes and found him smiling at her from several feet away.

"Ya happy now?" He asked as he pulled on a pair of pants, watching her in amusement as he tucked in his boxers.

Her mouth refused to form words in response.  
Her body was singing a chorus of his praises.  
Her eyes were affixed to him as he laughed warmly and pulled on an undershirt.

"I'll take that as a yes," he commented with a pleased smile, walking by and pecking her mouth once more.

"Come on, we don't wanna be late or we'll face another round of questions from our boy of the brood and brow, yeah?" He called a minute later.

Cordelia blinked repeatedly, turning and finding him fully dressed. "Right…umm…Doyle?" She said, looking at him worriedly. "How is it even possible that you know how to kiss like that?"

He laughed and shook his head. "I'm able to do quite a bit you're unaware of, princess." He replied with a wink as he walked out the door.

* * *

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	4. Go ahead, SAY IT! You're 'leaving'

"_GO AHEAD, SAY IT!  
You're 'leaving'…  
You'll just come back running.  
Holding your scarred heart in hand,  
It's all the same."_

* * *

With wide eyes he waited, tensed and ready to spring into action. He had been here for nearly half an hour already.

Hearing voices outside, Angel quickly mustered up his most casual posture, reaching for his mug for the fourth time in the past ten minutes. Unlike the false alarms caused by other tenants in moments prior, this time Doyle and Cordelia finally did enter the hallway – _together._ He smirked over his shoulder at them from his strategic position at the coffeepot, finally pouring himself some.

"Good morning," He greeted as they made their way into the office. He waited impatiently for a sign as to whether the previous evening had resulted in another round of denial. As he turned to face them and took a swig of his coffee, he was disappointed to see that it had.

"Morning." Cordelia answered without enthusiasm, taking a seat at her desk and keeping her eyes averted.

"Good morning, bud." Doyle answered cheerfully, clapping Angel on the back before retrieving a mug of his own.

Judging by the pep in his step and the grin that refused to fade from his face, Angel decided that no matter the outcome, the evening couldn't have been all that bad for his friend. Something had made this time different, something _new_ had happened. He was already chomping at the bit for a chance to grill Doyle in private about what that might be.

He had been waiting for this moment for the past two _(brutally long)_ days. While Cordelia was many things, covert was not one of them. She did everything but leave a note with his key-ring announcing that she had snagged Doyle's apartment key to have a copy made.

Though, in all fairness, he had been watching like a hawk for any hint that she had finally taken the bait, and it had certainly taken her long enough.

Nearly a full week had passed since he had feigned senility and wondered aloud at the extra keys he had accumulated. Asking for her help in identifying them, he had then "recognized" the last one on the ring as Doyle's and asked her to label it with a "D" for him, you know, just to help _him_ keep them straight. Every day after, he had made a point of leaving his keys out in full view whenever he was away from the building. When he returned two days prior and found that they had been moved clear across his desk, he nearly jumped for joy.

Now he was forced to wait again, which he did from behind his desk, watching the pair clandestinely through the window the entire time.

She had barely made it out of the building for her lunch break before he was launching out of his chair.

Seeing the enthusiasm with which he was rushing out into the reception area, Doyle laughed. "My, Angel…whatever could ya be so eager to see me about?" He teased.

"Cut to the chase, what happened?" Angel asked as he kept his eyes locked on the hallway.

"And who's saying something happened?" Doyle asked in feigned ignorance as he folded the paper and placed in on his chest.

"_Doyle_." Angel said in an impatient tone. "She snagged your key two days ago – I've been waiting long enough."

Doyle smirked. Despite Cordelia's belief that she had pulled it off undetected, he knew Angel would have noticed. "Two days ago, yeah? Well, I s'pose she was just making sure she had her overnight bag packed and such, oh – and of course she had to go shopping for that dreaded negligee, as well." He commented casually.

Angel's eyes went wide as his jaw fell open. "_Negli_--…? Did you…? Did the _two of you_…? Did you _tell_ her…?" He stammered.

Doyle cracked up. "Relax, bud. We still didn't…" He trailed off, whistling a short tune to finish that sentence. "She did, however, nearly break me will to show restraint. Ya never mentioned she's a penchant for fighting dirty."

Angel arched a brow. "She's _Cordelia Chase_, it goes without saying. If she sees something she wants, nobody is gonna tell her she can't have it. Now that she's seeing this as a challenge, I'm surprised you've lasted this long without caving."

"That makes two of us." He laughed. "I did, however, finally get to kiss the beauty this morning." He said with a wide grin.

A smile lit up the face of the usually stoic vampire. "Really? Well, congratulations! So does that mean the two of you are…?"

"I don't have a _clue_ what 'the two of us' are." Doyle sighed. "She called me out on keeping something hidden from her, though. Rattled it off in a sort of 'to do' list of things to be resolved before the '_to __**do**__'_ she's really after. In her mind, we've two items to accomplish. First, she's gotta figure out what reason I would accept for her wanting to go ahead with it. Second, I've gotta tell her my big, dark secret."

"And where are you with that?" Angel asked worriedly as he leaned back against her desk. "If she gives you the reason you're looking for, are you prepared to tell her the truth?"

"_I don't know_…" Doyle groaned. "She says because of…_my secret_…I'm just making up rules to avoid us getting together, and ya know, maybe she's right. Maybe that's what this is, just a way of avoiding having to tell her. But if she says that she's really looking to go ahead with something serious between us…and I tell her what I am…and then she _changes her mind_…?"

He shook his head, clenching his jaw at the pain that scenario caused in his chest. "I've no idea what I'd do if that happened. She's not the foggiest idea of how hard it would be for me to confess it to her, and she's not exactly famous for her use of tact. No matter how far out on the line I'd be placing me heart by speaking the words, she's gonna voice her initial reaction just as fast as it pops into her head. I'll not be receiving any mercy or sugarcoating from her."

Angel frowned sympathetically. "But that's the chance you have to take eventually, Doyle. If not with Cordy, then with someone else, otherwise you're going to be alone for the rest of your life." He offered.

Watching his friend's mood declining before his very eyes, he stood up straight, pointing down at him in warning as he added sternly, "And we can't have that. _I'm_ the only one around here allowed to get gold stars in the '_eternal abstinence'_ column of their employee review. I'd hate to have to fire you just to keep my record unchallenged."

It did the trick. Doyle looked up at him with a genuine smile spreading across his lips. "Thanks bud." He said happily.

* * *

But the fix did not hold together for very long. While the rest of the day was lighthearted and pleasant, with Doyle all but walking on air at finally kissing Cordelia, the joy was very promptly destroyed once 5:00 rolled around.

"So is she…ya know, _again_ tonight?" Angel whispered curiously. Cordy had gone downstairs to his apartment nearly half an hour prior, supposedly to find a book, and he did not want his words to carry.

"Who knows?" Doyle answered quietly. "She sorta comes and goes as she pleases. Now that she's a key, it's not as though I've any say in the matter." He reminded with a laugh.

The elevator began its ascent back up to Angel's office and the men quickly resumed reading the texts before them.

"Well," Cordelia said several seconds after she had opened the gate and stepped off the elevator. "What do you think?"

Doyle looked over to see what she meant and was hit with two things.

Firstly, Cordelia looked absolutely _stunning_. She was wearing a short, black cocktail dress that only reached her mid-thighs and a great pair of stilettos. Her hair was pulled into an elegant up-do and makeup was flawless. She was every bit as radiant as the diamond solitaire resting against her collarbone.

Secondly, she was not dressed in such a manner for him.

His heart felt like it was fracturing inside his chest as he realized she was going out tonight, with _another man_.

The room felt like it was getting smaller, his temperature was rising, and breathing was becoming labored. How could she be going out on a date with some other guy after what happened between them that morning? How could she do this to him? Hadn't their kiss meant _anything _to her?

Angel's stomach tensed as the same knowledge hit him. He fought to keep the pained look from his eyes, struggling to act as if he was unaware of how cruel she was for doing this. "Wow, Cordelia…you look…great." He managed halfheartedly, more concerned with Doyle in that moment than he was with her.

"Oh, yeah, that was really convincing." She scoffed. "Why do I even bother asking you two?" She grumbled.

While she walked out into the reception area, Doyle stared blankly ahead at Angel's desk. Less than five minutes later, the newest yuppie prince arrived to whisk her away for the evening. He could not even bring himself to go out and make the guy feel unwanted.

Angel could, though, and all but climbed over his desk to get to the bastard that was unwittingly hurting his friend. Struggling to keep his own anger in check, he stepped up the threatening undertone of his interrogation for Doyle's sake.

But hearing Angel badger the yutz did nothing to quell the devastation Doyle was feeling or, when it finally began filling him, the _outrage_.

His fingers dug into the arm of the chair as he fought to stay in control. He wanted to charge out there, to ask Cordelia in front of her date whether she would be spending that night, like the last, curled up in his bed wearing barely a thing and pleading for him to have his way with her. He wanted to ask her if she had gathered her senses yet since he left her breathless and starving for more in his bedroom that morning.

By some miracle, he managed to stay in his chair, hoping she would hurry up and get the hell out already. It was taking all of his strength not to lash out at her for the pain she was causing in him.

When she walked back into Angel's office looking for her purse, however, he was no longer able to hold his tongue.

"See you later, Doyle." She said with a smile…but it faltered when he looked back at her with fury in his eyes.

"_Ooh, I'd __**better**__ not." _He warned in a low, seething tone.

Like a deer caught in headlights, she stood frozen in place, watching in disbelief as he grabbed her purse off of Angel's desk, pulled her key-ring free and took his apartment key from it. After stuffing the rest of her keys into one of the side pockets, he tossed the purse to her.

The message was clear; she was not welcome at his place. There was to be no coming to him later after doing this.

All she could do was stare at him in shock. His words and expression told her quite clearly how livid he was with her in that moment but she had no idea how to react to it. She had never even seen Doyle _annoyed_ before, let alone so angry…with _her._

"Did you find it?" her yuppie date called hopefully, obviously eager for her to return and save him from the pale, brooding, wall of a man staring daggers at him.

"Huh?" Cordelia answered distractedly, unable to tear her gaze from Doyle's.

"Your purse, did you find it?" He pressed, sounding a bit frantic as Angel took a step closer to him.

"_You'd better get on out there to your rich boy, yeah? Wouldn't want him driving away in his Mercedes without ya there to catch his coattails_." Doyle said coldly.

Cordelia flinched. The venom behind his words stung her worse than a slap.

"Need any help looking?" The yuppie called, his panic at the stifled rage in Angel's eyes sent him in search of the purse himself. He sidestepped Angel, quickly crossing the office to reach her.

"Oh, good, you found it." He breathed in relief as he stepped into Angel's office behind her. "Come on, we don't want to be late or we'll lose the reservations." He said purposefully, catching her by the hand. After his attempt to walk away revealed that she was still standing firmly in place, he followed her gaze.

Seeing Doyle, and the way she was so rigid under his angry glare, the man stammered. "Oh…I umm…I'm sorry, I didn't realize there was someone else in here…I'm Michael, it's nice to meet you." He said and extended his hand.

Doyle did not bat an eyelash or move a muscle to acknowledge the greeting; he simply kept his eyes locked on hers.

"_Right_…" Michael breathed as he pulled his hand back awkwardly, wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into by asking this girl out. "Come on Cordelia, we really need to go." He muttered and with a hand on the small of her back and another on her elbow, he guided her out the door.

Every look she cast over her shoulder as she was led away, found those furious blue eyes staring back at her.

Several minutes after they had gone, Angel managed to stop glaring out the door and ventured into his office. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest and keeping his eyes on the floor.

"You gonna be okay?" He finally asked.

"Sure." Doyle answered calmly as he stood and pulled on his coat. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Though Angel knew it probably was not a good idea, he blocked his friend's path as he tried to walk out the door and placed a hand on his shoulder. Doyle looked up at him, without a trace of the rage that had been present in his eyes a moment earlier, but said nothing.

"Listen, Doyle…if you want to talk…" Angel offered.

"Nothing to talk about, bud. I'll see ya tomorrow." Doyle replied coolly.

The verbal conversation had been short. What had passed between them as they stared at one another was far more in depth.

Angel made it known that Doyle was welcome to stay and get as trashed as he wanted to in the safety of the apartment below or, if he preferred, Angel would tag along with him wherever he wanted to go.

Doyle answered that he did not want to talk about it, it was too painful to deal with and in that moment, he needed to get away from anything even _remotely_ linked to Cordelia.

Angel told him he understood the wish to be alone but the invitation stood. No matter the hour, Doyle was welcome to come back if he changed his mind and wanted company.

* * *

He didn't change his mind.

By 1:00 in the morning, Doyle had been through every seedy bar in the shady underbelly of the city. His fat lip, swollen eye, aching ribs, and gash on the side of his head proved that. None of which, of course, would have been earned if he had brought his vampish best friend along for the trip…which was exactly why he had wanted to do this alone. He was looking for trouble, an outlet for all of his anger. Having tall, dark, and brooding at his side would have made such a thing impossible.

He would still be out there, doing his best to destroy his liver in a single evening, were it not for the fact that no bartender in their right mind would serve him in his current state.

It never ceased to amaze him how, no matter the amount of alcohol he consumed, he managed to find his way home. He might not remember how he got there the next morning, but he always did, just the same. Tonight's trek included catching a ride half way from an unsavory demon he would never recall the name of, then staggering and stumbling the remaining twelve blocks to his apartment building.

He always hated the stairs when he was this far gone. One of these days, he really needed to move to a place without so many. He put that on the 'to do' list as he leaned on the railing for support and dizzily gaped up at them.

As soon as the words '_to do list_' crossed his mind, he considered heading back out in search of another bar. Even if he could not get anything more to drink, another round of fighting would provide welcome release.

_How could she do this?_

But what the hell had he been expecting, really? That she would suddenly understand that money did not equate to happiness? That she would overlook all of his faults? Decide to lower her standards and see him for the man he could be? It went against her very nature. She wanted a rich boy, somebody who could buy her anything she wanted. She probably didn't even care if the bastard loved her, so long as he had the means to spoil her rotten.

_Damned Cordelia_…

Hearing a loud bang to his right, he gradually and unsteadily turned his head toward the sound. In confusion, he found his fist, wrist, and forearm buried in the wall beside him.

It took him a while to realize how they had gotten there.

Groaning slightly in pain, he managed to work his hand back out of the drywall. He flexed his bleeding fingers experimentally, feeling the familiar dull sting that assured he had broken at least a few bones and would be paying for it in the morning. He made a mental note to go demon-face once he was in the privacy of his apartment. As much as he loathed that side of himself, it did speed healing process considerably.

The usual five minutes was spent convincing his legs to start the eight story ascent up the stairs. He spent the majority of the trek leaning against the wall for support, occasionally pausing to press his cheek to the cool plaster in an effort to calm his roiling stomach and throbbing head.

Half way up, he thought he caught the scent of a vampire but paid it no attention for two reasons. Firstly, given his state of intoxication, it could be his mind playing tricks on him. Secondly, it really would not come as a surprise to learn that one of his neighbors was a bloodsucker.

In fact, very little would surprise him in this neighborhood, other than what was waiting for him upstairs. The last thing in the world, and I mean the _very last thing_, he wanted to see when he finally reached his hallway was, of course, exactly what he found.

Sitting on the floor outside his apartment, was the bane of his existence herself.

"_Son of a…!" _He cried and halted mid-step when he turned the corner and spotted her. Still wearing her cocktail dress with her hair hanging down around her face and mascara running over her cheeks, she looked up at him with tearful eyes.

"Ya have_ **got **_to be kidding me." He growled, shaking his head and glaring at her in outraged disbelief.

Given his wounded sense of pride in that moment, he considered ignoring the manipulative feminine roadblock. He never got this drunk when she was around, never allowed her to see just how low he could sink when given a reason. It infuriated him further that she would know that she was the '_reason' _this time. His current beaten, disheveled, and drunken state was her handy work. He loathed giving her the satisfaction of that knowledge.

He could just walk past her, he reasoned, just go into his apartment and lock the door, leave her out here to realize in astonishment that he was capable of turning her away.

As quickly as the thought crossed his mind, however, he shot it down. _Yeah, that's right, bud; just leave her out here to get raped or murdered while ya go sleep off your whisky. That's a great plan. _

Still, he was even angrier with her now than he had been before. Not only had she gone out with another guy tonight, disregarded his warning that she had better not show up here, but now she was getting her way…_again_. He was going to have no choice but to let her in. Taking away the key had not done a damned bit of good.

Shaking his head and muttering furiously the entire way, he stumbled to his door, stepping around her and unlocking it. After walking inside, he glared down at the back of her head.

What did she want now, for him to beg her to come inside? That was most definitely _not_ going to happen. She was forcing him to do this but he would at least keep some self-respect in the process.

He held his keys out at shoulder-height in front of him and let them drop. They clattered loudly on the hardwood floor behind her when they landed, causing her to jump.

"Lock up behind ya." He muttered, leaving the front door open as he walked into his bedroom and slammed the door.

She had two choices, come inside or leave, either way his conscience was clear.

Halfway through peeling off his clothes he heard the front door shut. He stood still for a moment, his hands motionless on his belt as he tried to gauge what path she had taken. Regardless of his anger, he hoped she had elected to sleep on his couch. No matter how much the alcohol coursing through his veins tried to convince him he would not be to blame if something happened to her, he knew sobriety would tell a different tale entirely.

When his bedroom door creaked open behind him, the worry for her safety evaporated.

"Not another _step_, Delia. I _mean_ it." He warned and listened to her footfalls still. He turned and glared at her, pointing out at the living room. "Couch is back that way. Knock yourself out."

"Doyle…" She said in a strained voice.

"Nothing you're gonna say is gonna change me mind this time." He insisted, waving for her to back out of his bedroom.

"I'll go home…I just wanted…" She began.

Unfortunately, those words broke his will to remain calm and distant. This was _precisely _why he never got this wasted in her presence. The gloves were off; his mental filter of what should and should _never_ be said was always incapacitated by the time he took his tenth shot.

"So you'll go home, is that it?" He asked as he rounded on her. "You'll just leave? _**Say it**__!_" He demanded at the top of his lungs.

Cordelia took a startled step backward, her hand going to her chest as she fought off the urge to run from the room crying.

"_Tell me_ you'll walk out of this apartment right now as if nothing ever happened! And then what? We go back to pretending ya never came, is that it? A week goes by, maybe a month, before some other jerk makes ya question your self-worth and then you're right back at me door? And then what? _**WHAT**_, Cordelia?" He screamed. "_Tell me_ how this works! I'm s'posed to help ya pick up the pieces again? Bandage up your ego? Make ya feel better about yourself so ya can get right back out there and find yourself a golden goose? Who the _**hell**_ d'ya think ya are?!

"Oh, but ya '_just wanted…'" _He repeated in disgust, holding up his hands sarcastically as if this was a valid excuse and enough to earn forgiveness. "There's a big surprise, yeah? Cordelia 'wanted'. Cordelia Chase 'just wanted'. Well I don't give a _damn _what ya want, d'ya hear that? It's not all about _you_ all the time. Contrary to what ya were raised to believe, the sun does not rise and set squarely over the crack of your ass, _princess._" He shouted with more volume and fury than she ever would have believed he could summon.

She struggled to draw a breath against the pain his words were inflicting. Her heart ached terribly hearing him use what had always been her favorite word in his accented vocabulary, '_princess'_, as a scathing insult.

"Ya '_just wanted'_…" He continued, using those words to feed the flames of his fury. "Well I've come to realize there are only two things in this world that Cordelia Chase _really_ 'wants'. Would ya like to hear what they are? It's fairly simple once ya think about it. Ya only want what ya _don't_ deserve and what ya _can't_ have. Ya think ya deserve a mansion and servants and more jewelry than royalty? How's about doing more than batting your pretty eyelashes to earn them? And as for what ya can't have, well, I s'pose I'm just a shining bloody example of the truth of that one, now aren't I?" He said bitterly as he held his arms out.

Raising his voice to a deafening level, he took several heated steps toward her. "The _only_ reason ya took this sudden, twisted interest in me was because I told ya _NO!_" He shouted in her face before backing away and pacing in front of her.

Cordelia winced, closing her eyes for a second and biting back tears as her nostrils flared. Her jaw trembled, her body quaked with the wish to sob but she could do nothing more than watch him with wounded eyes as he continued.

"If I'd have given ya what ya were after that first night, ya never would have given me a second thought. But here ya are," he said with a bitter, astonished laugh and motioned around them. "Camped outside my door in the middle of the night and forcing your way right back into my bedroom because ya've not gotten your way yet. It's like telling a spoiled child that they can have any toy they see except _one_ of them. They'd have never even looked at it until that moment but all the sudden, it's the only thing they want."

Though part of him was trying desperately to back off of her, feeling guilty for the way she was shaking and trying so hard not to cry, the rest of him was nowhere near finished.

_Against his better judgment, he had allowed himself to hope for her…for a second chance at life with her…for a reason to end all the pain and self abuse he subjected himself to…_

He shook his head and laughed at his own stupidity, lowering his voice and glaring at her as he finally stopped pacing. "And here I was, like an idiot, thinking maybe I was finally getting through to ya, thinking maybe I had been right that somewhere, under all that pomp and rudeness, there was a decent person just trying to keep the world at a safe distance. But ya know what I realize now? This is just a _game_ to you. That's all any of this has ever been, just something to keep ya entertained. Everyone else in the world, me included, is just a pawn for ya to move around as ya see fit. I'm a challenge ya never would have noticed if I had given in to ya. But once ya win, once I let ya have what you're after, you'll be _right back_ to never saying a thing to me beyond insults."

He turned his back on her, kicking off his shoes and removing his belt with trembling hands.

"Well, I've decided I'm tired of playing my part in this little game of yours." He said in a quaking voice. "I'd rather walk away from this experience with a shred of dignity left. So you'll not be getting your way this time, Cordelia, not with _me_." He declared as he turned and stalked toward her.

She whimpered as he gripped her roughly by the arms and stared down into her eyes.

His voice became calm as the confession rolled from his lips. "Not when ya could have had someone who actually gave a damn about ya, who cared about ya and wanted to see ya happy, who thought ya were more than a trophy to put up on the mantle and show off from time to time."

The intense emotion she found in his gaze in that moment made her knees weak. He was drowning in grief, lashing out at her for inflicting it, but still, even now, she found the faintest hints of adoration for her in his eyes.

His features softened, if ever so slightly, as she studied his face. When she brought an unsure hand up and caressed his cheek with it, he leaned into her touch, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

He was tired, sore, drunk, and hopelessly crushed by what she had done. Her touch, however, made him regret every word he had just said. No matter how much he spoke against it, he _did _still want her to curl up beside him in bed. He _did _still want to play her game if it meant having her in his arms, if only for a short while. Part of him did not care in the least if she never spoke to him again afterward, he just wanted _her_, wanted to be _hers_, even if it was for all the wrong reasons.

She looked over his wounds sympathetically. A dark bruise was covering his right side, his lip was split open and swollen eye was fast on its way to becoming a shiner.

_What did you do to yourself because of me, Doyle? _She wondered remorsefully.

It was when she reached out with her other hand to find the source of the blood trickling down his temple that something wholly unexpected happened.

Doyle cried out when she touched the wound with more pressure than she intended. She had just opened her mouth to apologize when the jolt of pain brought his big, dark secret screaming right to the surface.

With a startled gasp, she pulled her hands away from his face and backed up several paces.

Red eyes snapped open in panicked realization and he quickly turned away from her, crossing the room and shouting in a raspy, gruff, and entirely unfamiliar voice, "_**Get out!**_"

Despite the jarring impact of hearing such a strange voice coming from him, she was too stunned to move. What she had seen did not make any sense to her. The light in the room was dim but she had most definitely just witnessed and _felt_ countless spikes erupting from his skin as it underwent a drastic change in complexion.

It was like one second he was the man she knew…but the next… So did this mean...that **Doyle**...was...?

"_Doyle_…?" She called softly, taking a few timid steps toward him while wringing her hands nervously.

A strange noise came, like the rustling of porcupine quills, before he answered.

In a strained but otherwise familiar voice, he managed, "Guess ya got what ya wanted after all. I think it'd be best if ya were on your way now."

"But…" She tried as she took another step toward him, only to stop when he turned and looked at her with tearful eyes. His face was back to the one she knew. She marveled at that, how quickly it had come and gone.

"Just leave me _be_, Cordelia." He pleaded in a heartbroken whisper.

Her brows drew together compassionately at the sound.

"I'm _begging _ya. Just leave me be." With the last of his energy, he sank down on the edge of his bed, keeping his eyes locked on the floor.

He swallowed hard listening to her whisper softly, "_Okay, Doyle…okay…_" before grudgingly walking from his room and closing the door behind her.

When he heard his front door open and close a moment later, his keys on the outside locking the deadbolt, he clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle a sob.

Crawling up the length of his bed, he pulled a pillow over his head and, as silently as possible, wept until the whisky finally knocked him out cold.

* * *

**To read is fine,  
To review is divine!**


	5. And I'll take you for who you are

"_And I'll take you for who you are,  
If you take me for everything.  
Do it all over again,  
It's all the same."_

* * *

Cordelia had stood in his apartment for a moment, staring at his closed bedroom door as her mind reeled from the events of the past fifteen minutes.

Since when was Doyle so good at knocking people down a peg? She wondered in astonishment. His tirade had effectively made her realize what a total bitch she had been to him. It wasn't as black and white as he might believe, but she was still in the wrong...like _majorly _in the wrong.

Not that it mattered but that stupid dinner with Michael had been set more than a week prior. When he had called her at lunch to ask what time he should pick her up, she had not known what to do. He was the casting agent for a pretty big soap opera and she had not wanted to get on his bad side.

So she had raced home and grabbed something to wear, managing to get back to the office with a moment to spare in her lunch break. Her plan was to go out, listen to his boring conversation, smile and nod politely before gracefully bowing out of anything beyond that. If the guy wanted to think she was playing hard to get and did something _(like say, offered her a role in the show, for example)_ in hopes of getting her attention, that was fine by her. But she had thoroughly intended to come back to Doyle's place right afterward and explain herself.

When Doyle took away that key, said those cold things to her, and looked at her so furiously, she was floored by how badly it crushed her.

The dinner had gone terribly, of course.

The entire time Michael was blabbering away, all she could think about was getting to Doyle and telling him what had happened, making him understand that she wore this dress for _him, _not this pompous windbag.

The more she thought about it, the more frantic she became to reach him. Knowing that he was somewhere in that moment, thinking the worst of her, had her feigning a headache and catching a cab before the dessert menu had even arrived.

* * *

Less than an hour after she had left the office, she was rushing back in, startling the hell out of Angel by bursting through the door.

"Whoa, Cordelia – what's going on?" Angel asked as he jumped from his chair. He got between her and the entrance, his eyes searching the darkness beyond in case someone or some_thing_ was in pursuit.

"Where is he?" She managed as she pressed a hand to her aching side and tried to catch her breath. _Why did running in stilettos make it so much more difficult?_

"He's not here, he left right after…" Angel answered distractedly before trailing off. "Wait, you do mean _Doyle_, right?" He asked as he turned to face her.

"_No_, I meant our _other_ mutual friend that would have a reason to be in this office at this hour." She snapped impatiently.

Angel nodded that she had a point, though he had been wondering if she was talking about the yuppie yutz.

"Well did he at least say where he was going? Was he headed home?" She asked frantically, waving her hands for him to hurry up and answer.

"What's going on?" He asked with a suspicious scowl. "Why are you looking for him?"

Cordelia fought for a second to feign calmness.

"Nothing. No reason." She said defensively, straightening her posture and trying to smooth her hair. "I was just wondering…because…well…you know…" She began before abandoning the effort and growling in defeat. Her mind was too fixated on the memory of Doyle's angry blue eyes to come up with a lie. "I _screwed up_, okay?" She blurted out grudgingly.

Angel smirked at the admission and crossed his arms over his chest.

"He's mad at me right now but he doesn't know the reasons why I…so I need to get to him and explain a few things, is that alright with you?" She said with a scowl, putting up a front of offense in an attempt to throw him. "And since when are you like the Doyle warden around here anyway? I have to give you an explanation whenever I'm looking for him now?" She demanded.

Angel merely arched a brow.

Her attempts to bully an answer out of him were deserted the instant she realized they would not work. She did not have _time_ for this, she needed to find Doyle.

"Did he say where he was going or not?" She asked desperately and gripped the front of his shirt.

"No, but I have a feeling he was going to make the rounds of the local bars." Angel told her as he removed her hands from his shirt and walked past her.

"And you _let him go_? Damn it, Angel! He's probably out there, all by himself, getting hammered in some horrible dive right now!" She screeched.

"So? In case you hadn't noticed, Cordelia, Doyle's an adult. He's free to go wherever he wants." Angel said as he returned to his chair. "And who said he was 'all by himself' anyway?" He asked as he put his feet up on the desk and picked up the book he had been reading. "He might have been meeting up with somebody."

He suppressed a smirk watching the effect those words had on her.

Cordelia felt nauseous and reached out blindly for the arm of the chair, suddenly needing to sit down. She sank into the seat in front of Angel's desk as his words resounded through her mind, '_meeting up with somebody'_.

Doyle.  
_Meeting up_ with _somebody_.

It couldn't happen, right? He couldn't _really_ have some never before mentioned booty-call out there who he visited from time to time…_right? _

Her eyes widened as she stared at the front of Angel's desk and pondered that possibility.

God, what if it was _Harri_…what if they were hooking up on the quiet tip for a little between-the-sheets reminiscing?  
Or what if it was some raunchy little smut from his neighborhood? Ooh and she _had_ seen quite a few hoochies in his building…

She shook her head in an effort to clear that unpleasant thought from her mind.

_Pfft, like she even cared_, she tried to convince herself, sitting up straighter and putting on a calm face. The pain in her chest, however, was not buying the attempt.

"What bars does he go to?" She finally asked in a tone she was ashamed to admit sounded very much like a whine.

Angel shifted in his chair at the question. "Umm…I'm not sure…but I know none of them are places either of us wants to go."

She scowled and narrowed her eyes on him. "Wouldn't _want to_ or _won't?" _She asked challengingly.

Angel sighed and rested his book on his chest. "_Won't._ Look, Cordelia, I'm not going to lead you around," _(to all the demon bars in the city) _"so that you can find Doyle when he doesn't want to be found. Once he's ready to come back, he will. Though I'm betting he won't be here on time for work in the morning. But after he sleeps it off, he'll come here. Just wait to talk to him until then, all right?" He asked hopefully.

When no response came, he attempted to get back to his reading, ignoring the eyes that were all but burning a hole in the side of his head.

Perfectly manicured fingernails thrummed impatiently across his desktop as she glared at him.

"Ya know…" She finally began. "I seem to recall him mentioning a place called _Rayne_ once or twice…" She said offhandedly and watched Angel struggle to mask his dread at the name. "And then there was that one down by the docks he talked about…what was the name of it? Oh yeah, _Blood-Bath_."

Angel swallowed hard. Walking into either one of those places was a guaranteed death sentence for her.

"Then over on Myrtle there's that place called…oh what was it…something about dismemberment or was it disemboweling?" She continued thoughtfully and grinned triumphantly when he snapped his book shut.

"That's a _demon __**biker**__ bar_." Angel said angrily. "As in, _off-limits-to-Cordelia_." He elaborated with a stern look.

"Really? Wow, I guess it's a good thing you knew enough to warn me, huh? If I was out there, all alone, just walking from bar to bar, something really bad could happen." She said in feigned innocence before scowling. "And as for what is 'off limits' to me, I seem to recall you pointing out that adults like Doyle _**and**_ me can go wherever we want to go."

He glared over at her.  
She matched his glare and raised him an eyebrow.

"Which one of us is supposed to be a monster again?" He asked heatedly and climbed to his feet. "I can't _believe_ I'm doing this." He grumbled, hating that she knew exactly what to say to get him to act. But what choice did he have? If he let her go she would get herself killed or _worse_…

And _oh yes_, there were a _**lot**_ worse things that could happen to a valley girl in a tiny dress, wandering into those bars off the streets, asking for a guy who owed most of those demons money.

Pointing over at her angrily as he pulled on his coat, he ordered. "You stay with me, keep your mouth shut, and don't talk to _anyone._ Got it?"

She nodded happily at that and followed along after him.

For hours they went from one place to the next, each filled with more demons and vampires than Cordelia had ever cared to be in the company of. She wondered at Doyle's choice in haunts but kept it to herself.

Not because she wanted to, mind you, but because every time she opened her mouth to ask a question, Angel rounded on her and held up that damned finger of his. He had warned her that if she didn't follow the rules, he would take her back to the office and tie her to the desk until Doyle came to retrieve her.

So she tagged along behind him as he asked creatures of various shapes, colors, sizes, and smells whether or not they had seen Doyle that night.

When they entered a bar and had to sidestep an employee that was sweeping up what appeared to be blood and glass, Angel got a worried look on his face and she couldn't keep the questions from pouring from her lips.

"What? Is that _Doyle_ blood? You're sniffing like you caught his scent. Speak, Angel! Speak!" She said frantically behind him.

Without responding, he crouched down and ran his fingers over one of the shards, bringing the blood to his lips and tasting it.

"_Eeewww!_" Cordelia cried and turned away, trying not to wig out as her flesh crawled.

He winced and spat at the taste. _Bitter, definitely demon. No copper aftertaste, though…had to be a pure one_.

"_Gross_, Angel!" Cordelia whispered admonishingly and smacked his shoulder. "You don't know whose blood that is! You could catch something!"

He cast an annoyed look over his shoulder at her and waited for her to piece together the absurdity of that statement.

"_Oh!_" She finally breathed in realization. "Right. Vampire. Gotcha. You guys pretty much pioneered drinking strangers' blood. Sorry, go ahead, don't mind me, do your thing."

With an aggravated sigh, he stood. "It's not Doyle's blood." He said, turning and looking behind them to the patrons at the bar. "But _that_ is."

Following his pointing finger, she spotted blood on the front of a big, ugly, Jabba-the-hut-looking demon's shirt.

Cordelia scowled and clenched her fists. It only pleased her slightly to see that Doyle must have gotten in some good shots. The demon was bleeding and holding an icepack to the side of his face.

_Well_, she decided, _he had two hands…flippers…__**thingies**__. He would just have to press one to the other side, too_.

She had just started to take a furious step forward when Angel gripped her shoulder.

"Easy." He said as he held her in place. "Let's see if I can talk to him before we bring out the big guns, all right?" He asked, trying not to smirk at her willingness to fight demons for Doyle.

She had, in fact, hit one in the head _repeatedly_ with a dinner tray just a few months prior in Doyle's defense. She didn't know the guy she was hitting _was_ Doyle, of course, because he had been in demon form. But when she believed that he was one of the demons trying to eat '_her friend'_ Doyle's brains, she had not shied away from trying to bash his skull in.

"Had a little disagreement?" Angel asked as they stepped up in front of the wounded demon.

The menacing glare Cordelia was giving quickly changed to a curled her lip as an odor wafted from the demon. Coughing and covering her nose daintily, she hoped that wherever Doyle was, he hadn't gotten too much of this thing's scent on him.

"What do you care?" It asked in a gurgling voice.

"I care," Angel said, letting his face shift to reveal that he was a vampire. "Because the guy you were fighting is a friend of mine."

"A _friend _of yours?" The demon scoffed, sharing a good laugh at that with the others beside it. "In case you were wondering, your kind isn't supposed to associate with little half-bree---"

Cordelia tilted her head to the side, wondering what it had been about to say. All she could do was wonder, of course, because before it finished that sentence, Angel had grabbed it by the front of the shirt and hauled it up off the barstool. Despite the size difference between them, the demon's feet were dangling uselessly several inches off the ground.

"Maybe you're not clear on the meaning of the word," Angel growled threateningly, baring his fangs as he spoke.

If there had been pom-poms anywhere in the vicinity, Cordelia would have broken out in a cheer that this thing was going to get beat up for hurting Doyle.

"But it's not a good idea to speak ill of a person's '_friend'_ to their face." Angel said before tossing the demon backward against the bar. "_In case you were wondering_." He finished with a shrug as more glasses and bottles shattered on the floor.

With a sigh, the employee with the broom trudged over and got to work clearing another mess.

After the demon had managed to get back on its feet, it held up its hands in surrender. "Sorry, it's just…not something I've ever seen before." It offered.

Angel held up a hand, hoping to prevent Doyle's secret from being revealed to Cordelia. "Fine, enough about that, when was he here?" He asked.

"He got tossed out about twenty minutes ago. If you ask me, he was just looking for trouble." The demon said, motioning to two others in the crowd showing evidence of a brawl. "I've had those nights. Hell, we all have. Just trying to drink and fight your problems away…problems which _usually_ start with something that looks a lot like your other little 'friend' here." It said, inclining its head to Cordelia.

She frowned and stepped behind Angel.

"Or is she just take-out?" The demon asked curiously.

Cordelia's jaw dropped open in indignation and just as quickly she was jumping in front of Angel. "_Take-out?!_ How dare…? I am _way _too good to be put on a value menu, buster! If anything I'd be more like…like…_gourmet cuisine! _Isn't that right, Angel?"

Rolling his eyes as she continued her tirade, Angel caught her by the elbow and began dragging her from the bar.

"Thanks for your help." He called over Cordelia's ranting.

"No problem." The demon laughed.

After getting her into the car, he crossed off the club's name from the list he had made at the beginning of this little adventure. He and Cordelia had made a deal. He would take her to twenty bars he knew of in the area that Doyle used to frequent only if, after that, she would abandon the effort without complaint.

Judging by the way she was crossing her arms over her chest and pouting, he knew she realized this had been the last one.

"You want me to just take you home?" He offered.

"No. I need my car to get to work in the morning." She grumbled.

But as he drove back to the office, he already knew the real reason she wanted her car.

Following along after her stealthily once she left to drive 'home', he shook his head.

"_Cordelia, Cordelia, Cordelia_…" He sighed, taking a left and knowing right where she was headed. He parked around the corner, keeping to the shadows and trailing her as she entered Doyle's apartment building.

He stayed in the stairwell, listening to the sounds of the building and wondering what she was thinking. She didn't have a key to Doyle's place anymore and God only knew how long it would be before he got home.

Cordelia had already decided she was willing to wait him out, though. One hour or five, she would stay there until she got the chance to explain herself. For all she knew, he was already inside, passed out in bed. She would have tried knocking but worried that: one, if he was in there he would ignore it knowing it must be her and two, the sound might draw unwanted attention from his scary neighbors.

With that thought, she suddenly wished Angel had come with her. How she would have convinced him to do so, she had no idea. She had not even explained to him why it was so important for her to see Doyle in the first place.

Sighing and pressing her head back against the wall, she stared up at the flickering fluorescent lights_. How did things get so complicated?_ She wondered as she sank down to the floor.

She had tried _so_ hard to always think of Doyle as '_just_ Doyle' in her mind. She had pointed out all of his faults almost compulsively in order to show her heart why it needed to ignore him. Little by little, though, he had gotten through. Every one of those damnably adorable dimpled smiles, every accented word that fell from his lips, every twinkling of those big, adoring blue eyes had been just another step toward this point.

Cordelia Chase was falling for a short, poor immigrant with a fashion sense like a Greek tragedy.

But a smile like a million bucks.  
And a heart of solid gold.

She sighed in annoyance at the truth of it.

What other guy would refuse a one night stand with a girl because he thought she was '_worth more than that'_?  
What other guy would let a girl cry on his shoulder when she wasn't putting out?  
What other _(straight)_ guy paid attention to a girl's new shoes and highlights and hairstyles?  
What other guy saved a girl's life, while _seriously_ risking his own, without standing to gain anything from it?  
_(Angel didn't get as many points for it in her mind since, you know, he kicked major ass and was a super strong vampire)_

And holy hell, what other guy could _kiss_ like Doyle did? She had been able to think of little else since that morning.

In the silence of the hallway, she let her hair down and pondered her plight, going all the way back to the first time they had met.

As she considered the night that had led her here in tears, she finally came to terms with the reasons for it. Someone had hurt her, not physically, it had cut far deeper than that. When she was at her lowest point, the only thing in the world she had wanted was to see Doyle's face and hear his voice. She had known, as always, that when she needed him he would be there for her.

"_I got it!_" She suddenly whispered in realization. She knew the answer to his question…but was she ready to own up to it?

He certainly was. Even if something was holding him back, he wore his feelings for her on his sleeve.

And she had hurt him tonight.

She frowned at that, recalling the look in his eyes.

God, she was such a _retard_. She buried her face in her hands as her eyes filled with tears. How could she not have realized that he would react this way? She had been wrapped up in her own little world as usual, assuming that he would just roll with the punches until they got time to talk privately. In retrospect, she felt terrible for her decision that he could wait for an explanation, that he could just deal with his emotions until she got around to them. Why did she always fail him so epically when he never once let her down?

And then she heard footsteps on the stairs.

She held her breath, looking up and finding him stumbling around the corner.

"_Son of a_…!" He cried and halted mid-step when he spotted her.

She swallowed hard seeing the outrage in his features again, but she could do this. She could be there for him like he always was for her. _No matter what_, she resolved to herself, she would not fail him this time.

It was a good thing she had made that resolution because otherwise she would have bolted the first time he screamed at her. Those were possibly the longest moments of her life, standing there in silence as he tore into her.

And then his face had changed…and his eyes…and he had pleaded for her to leave him be…

* * *

So yes, Cordelia had stood in his apartment for a moment after that, staring at his closed bedroom door as her mind reeled from the events of the past fifteen minutes. Hell, of the past several weeks, for that matter.

But she was determined not to screw things up this time. She would give him some space for now, just like he had asked, but for her own reasons…and with his keys to guarantee she could return. She snatched them off the coffee table, locking the door behind her before racing down the hall. Angel would understand that she needed to use his books at this hour. He would totally get it if she just explained that…

Her eyes went wide in realization as she came to a halt. _That sneaky vamp bastard! He had known all along! _Oh that did it. He was gonna hear it when she got to the office. As she raced down the stairs, intent on reaching him, her heel caught on the runner of one of the steps. She had just started to fall when a cold hand reached out and snatched her by the wrist. Her eyes widened in horror as she looked up and saw the arm stretching out of the shadows. Just before she let out an ear piercing shriek that would have woken everyone in a five mile radius, the vamp bastard himself stepped out into the light.

"_Angel!_" She breathed angrily, waiting for him to help her onto level ground before smacking his arm. "Are you trying to scare me to death? What the hell are you doing skulking around Doyle's apartment?"

"Didn't I just save your life?" He asked in annoyance. "And I was skulking because _you _were skulking. Or did you just get confused and think this was your apartment?"

She deflated guiltily at that.

"We had a _deal_." He said heatedly, pointing at the ground between them as he glared down at her. "You were supposed to go home, where you would be _safe_, not hang around bad neighborhoods by yourself in the middle of the night." He admonished. "What did you expect me to do? Leave you here and hope by the time Doyle got back you would still be alive? How would I explain that to him? And do you have any idea what _lives_ on the sixth floor in this building?" He asked in a distressed whisper. "I sure as hell didn't! And now that I do, I don't even want _Doyle _living here! In fact, I'm going to start checking out other places for him as soon as I get back to the office."

"Okay, just so we're clear, the _deal_ was that I wouldn't go to any more _bars_ looking for Doyle and I wouldn't complain to you about it." She reminded. "But enough about that…" She said, remembering what she was going to the office for and hitting him in the arm again, harder this time.

"Ow!" He cried, despite the punch not really hurting him.

"_Half-breed!_" She whispered angrily and his eyes widened. "That's right, buddy. I figured it out. _That's_ what the big, nasty demon was gonna call Doyle. He was gonna call him a 'half-breed' but _you _stopped him from saying it in front of me."

"If you hit me again I swear I'm going to scuff your shoes." He warned as she drew back a fist.

She scowled up at him and let her hand fall to her side.

"So Doyle is what? Half Irish, half _demon_?" She demanded. "How long have you known about this?" Seeing the guilty look on his face, she gasped. "Since you _met_ him! And were you ever planning on telling _me_?" She cried. He had barely opened his mouth to answer before she was continuing. "Ugh, 'no', right? Well fine, whatever, I know about it now and I need to do some research on green, prickly faced demons before I go back up there."

"Brachen." Angel said quietly.

"Gesundheit." Cordelia responded, mistaking it for a sneeze.

"No, '_Brachen'_, as in '_Brachen_ demon'." He elaborated.

"Oh! So he's a Brachen demon? Well, what's their deal? Is he like a meat-eater or something?" She gasped in horror. "He doesn't eat _brains_, does he? Hey! Wait a minute…" She cried in realization, snapping and pointing up at Angel. "He was the green spiky demon I was beating on at that bachelor party, wasn't he? Oh my God and you were all like trying to get me to stop but I just kept on clobbering him…oh, poor Doyle!"

"He was fine; in fact he was pretty flattered." Angel assured.

"Really?" She said hopefully and he nodded. "Oh _good_. At least he knew my intentions were in the right place…wow, but I really nailed him with that tray."

"Don't worry about it. Now, to answer your questions, no – Brachens don't prey on humans or eat their meat." He said quietly.

"So…does he have to do some kind of weird freaky rituals with entrails or something?" She asked and Angel shook his head. "Is he contagious?"

Angel smirked that she really thought this might be a possibility, but shook his head again.

"Then what's the big whoop? Why is he acting like this is a case of leprosy?" She demanded.

"His demon blood comes from his father but he never met him. He didn't know about it until he was 21." Angel explained.

Cordelia's jaw dropped open in understanding. "When he was teaching third grade, volunteering in soup kitchens, and married to Harri..." She breathed.

"That's right." Angel said.

"So…he was like a flesh and blood _decent guy_ just leading a regular life, had his act together, and then one day, _poof!_ prickly face?" She asked in astonishment.

"Yeah, and he didn't take it very well." Angel told her solemnly.

"Ya _think_?" She said, motioning around them in disgust. "Wow, that _blows_." She said with genuine sympathy.

Angel smirked at her terribly ineloquent, yet irrefutably heartfelt expression of compassion.

"This explains a lot." She declared with a nod. "I always wondered how he went from one extreme to the other. So he is pretty ashamed of this whole demon thing, huh?"

"That's putting it mildly. He won't even use it to protect himself unless I force him to." Angel confided.

Cordelia gasped. "Are you _kidding _me? So wait, all those times he's gotten his ass kicked in front of me, he could have spiked out and saved himself the beating? What if he had gotten himself _killed?_" She demanded with wide eyes. "What a dumbass! He's so gonna hear about this when I get a hold of him. You mean to tell me, when that vampire attacked me in front of the office and Doyle came out and fought him, he seriously let himself get the crap kicked out of him _just_ so I wouldn't see his face go all '_grrr'_?"

"That's right. It's also the reason he's been so afraid of getting closer to you." Angel said with a purposeful look. "He didn't want anything to happen between you two until you knew the truth and had a chance to decide if you still wanted anything to do with him. To be honest, he's been dreading your reaction to it since he met you."

Cordelia shifted awkwardly, realizing from his words that he was aware she had been making a habit of coming here and throwing herself at their friend.

"Well, what did he think I was gonna do, freak out and never talk to him again or something?" She scoffed but instead of laughing along with her at how outlandish that assumption was, Angel simply nodded. "That's _ridiculous!" _She cried in disbelief. "He's still _Doyle, _why would I hold this against him?"

Angel opened his mouth, ready to spout off a dozen examples of situations where she had ranted endlessly about how disgusting demons were.

"So, fine, I _may_ have unwittingly made that fear more realistic for him but I'm okay with it. The spikes…what triggers them?" She asked curiously.

"He can do it any time he wants but some things make it happen involuntarily. Sneezing, for one. And pain, I've seen it happen a few times when he got hit." Angel offered.

"Ah, that explains it. I touched a gash on the side of his head and those things went off like a built-in alarm system." She recalled.

Angel shook his head. "How did you react?"

Cordelia stood up straighter, offended by the assumption that she had freaked out. "I gasped, of course, and backed up a little, but then I was fine. I was even gonna ask him to show me but…"

"But how did _he_ react?" Angel sighed.

"Well, he wasn't happy about it, that was for sure." She replied glumly. "He got as far away from me as possible and told me to leave him alone."

"And you _did_?" Angel demanded in shock.

"Well not for long, _hello!_" She said, holding up the keys and jingling them in front of his face. "I just wanted to give him some time to cool off. Plus, I figured in the mean time I could check out your books and learn some stuff about him. I mean, it would help to find out whether his type of demon turns into a hulking, psychotic, Cordelia-eating machine under the light of tonight's moon. But ya know what? You skulking around out here actually saved me a trip! Thanks!" She said happily, smacking his shoulder.

"Why do I get hit for good things _and_ bad things?" He asked huffily.

"Oh shut up," She said, giving him a big hug. "Well, I guess I'm off to go have the big talk now. Wish me luck?"

"_Definitely_. Good luck and hey, when it's all said and done, tell him I said congratulations." He said with a smile.

She grinned and told him she would before racing back up the stairs.

* * *

**To read is fine,  
To review is divine! **


	6. Wrong or Right, Black or White

_"And I'll take you for who you are  
If you take me for everything  
And do it all over again  
It's always the same_

_Wrong or Right, Black or White  
If I close my eyes, it's all the same  
In my life, the compromise  
I'll close my eyes, it's all the same..."_

* * *

Doyle opened his eyes slowly, immediately growling at the bright afternoon sunlight shining through his bedroom window. He whimpered and put a hand over his face, trying to block out the light since his head was _pounding_. He wondered vaguely what would possess him to open the damned curtains; he never did for precisely this reason. Hangover + bright light = PAINFUL combination.

The night before was pretty much one long blur but he was used to the sensation of lost time. He knew better than to try and jog his memories just yet. Whatever had caused him to overdo it so severely must have been something he longed to forget. He sighed and closed his eyes again, hoping to fall back into the stress-free land of dreams and postpone learning why he was in such a state.

The scent of iodine and the feeling of someone pressing what felt like gauze to the side of his head made him abandon the effort. He turned slightly, surprised as hell to find Cordelia smiling down at him radiantly in the sunlight.

"Good morning," she said sweetly, leaning down and kissing his cheek. "Or rather, good afternoon." She amended with a laugh. If he hadn't woken up soon she was going to start shaking him. While she had been able to busy herself by bringing her bag upstairs from the car, taking a shower, getting dressed, doing her hair and makeup, watching TV, and tending his wounds, she had been growing steadily more impatient for them to finally get a chance to talk. "How did you sleep?"

His brows drew together in confusion as she continued cleaning what felt like a nasty gash above his temple. She was sitting cross-legged beside him, settled in like she had been there for a good long while already. He noticed her overnight bag on the floor next to the bed. Her ever-handy first aid kit was lying open on his bedside table along with, disturbingly, a bloody washcloth she had apparently been using to clean him up. _Great, _he groaned in his mind, _what kicked me around this time? _

"_Cordelia_…? What's…?" He began as he tried to prop himself up on an elbow. He did not get very far into the attempt before groaning in surprise and clutching his side. His bruised ribs and busted hand had thoroughly protested the movement. The pain was manageable, he had definitely experienced worse, but it was unexpected. As such, it took every bit of self-restraint he possessed to prevent his demon side from presenting in response to it.

He winced, closing his eyes and willing himself to stay in control before looking up at Cordelia again. Seeing the way she was now leaning forward and studying his features expectantly gave him pause. He eyed her posture and expression in bewilderment. _She was __**waiting**__ for something to happen…_

They stared at one another for a moment in tense silence, each trying to gauge the other's reaction.

It must be something else, he decided finally. She could not know about…_that…_ If she did, she would most certainly not be sitting in his bed, nursing his wounds. But why was she here? And how did he _get _these injuries? He shifted anxiously as he struggled to piece it all together. _The last thing he could remember_…

His face fell as the first clear memory resurfaced. She had been going on that date with that rich bastard. His jaw flexed heatedly and she nodded to herself, knowing what he was recalling. _What had happened after that?_ He looked down at the dark, angry bruise covering his side and grimaced, remembering the drunken brawling. The sight of his swollen hand brought back the memory of burying it into the wall in the stairway. His breath caught in his throat as he recalled finding her sitting outside his door crying.

"Aww, _princess_…" He breathed regretfully, feeling terrible for taking her key away and being cold to her at the office.

But that remorse was nothing compared to what he felt as he recalled screaming in her face, tearing into her unmercifully as she stared at him with tearful eyes. His features twisted in devastation and he hung his head in shame, not wanting to look at her as his words replayed in his mind.

"Oh, I am such an _ass_." He declared harshly as he shook his head.

"Yup." She said with a grin.

He looked up at her quickly with a baffled expression. Wait, how the hell had he managed to say all of those things to her and **still** wind up with her beside him in bed?

_He heard her gasp in his memories, recalled opening his demon eyes and seeing her taking a startled step away from him. _

His jaw fell open and he looked up at her in horrified realization. "Oh…_no_…oh God…" He whimpered with a distressed frown. "Ya _didn't_…?" He pleaded.

"See your big, dark secret last night? You bet your little half-Brachen ass I did." She said matter-of-factly as she stretched over and put the gauze and iodine on his bedside table.

"And…you're…?" He tried, not knowing what to ask first.

"Cool with it? Sure, why wouldn't I be?" She asked in puzzlement. "I mean, I work for a vampire, hello!" She laughed. "And not just any vampire, either – a vampire I've _personally_ spent time hiding from like my life depended on it – because it _did. _A vampire who would have done whatever was necessary to kill me in oh-so gruesome and inventive ways if I'd been a closer friend of Buffy's. Yeah, _that's_ my boss now. Plus, I grew up on a Hellmouth, bub. I went to Sunnydale High, a place where you couldn't make a wish without some veiny vengeance demon showing up to suck you into another dimension. A place where my classmates included a witch, werewolf, vampire slayer, and oodles of other crazies. A place where we were all preyed on like _every single day_ by some evil or another. Were you really thinking that a few spikes on your face and a change in complexion would be a huge issue for _me_? That it would inflict shock and horror?" She asked incredulously.

Doyle averted his eyes shyly, reluctantly nodding that he had.

Cordelia smirked. "_Please. _This barely ranks an arched brow in my book. Though I should warn you, we are gonna have a _serious_ talk about you refusing to use your demon side in fights, mister." She said, pointing at him sternly before lying down beside him on the bed.

"Well…I…I just thought…with you…" He stammered.

She sighed impatiently, deciding since he could not get his brain to function for asking questions; maybe he would have more luck answering them. "So what does it feel like?" She asked, resting on her stomach and swinging her feet in the air above her. "You know, when you go all prickly faced?"

He stared at her apprehensively, unable to comprehend how effortlessly she was accepting what was, in his mind, such an earth-shattering revelation. "_Umm_…" He said, closing his eyes and shaking his head. At least she was still talking to him, he figured; he might as well try to keep that going. "I don't know. I've never really had to describe it to anyone before." He offered. "I s'pose it burns a little, though it doesn't _hurt_, per say…and when I go back to normal it itches like hell."

"Huh…" She breathed, taking this into consideration. "So it's like Ginsu-grade stubble?" She asked curiously.

Doyle smirked. "I'd say that's a fair assessment, yeah."

She nodded and chewed the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. "And what's it like when you're all demon-y? I mean, do you feel different at all?"

"Well, when I'm…'_all demon-y'_," He began with a smile, floored that he was actually speaking so candidly about this with someone, and _Cordelia_, of all people. "I'm stronger and more flexible…"

"Flexible, eh?" Cordelia asked with a wide grin, moving closer to him and mimicking the eyebrow waggle he always did when being pervy.

Doyle stared at her in abject disbelief for a second. "_Okay_…for the purposes of keeping me mind _out_ of the gutter whilst you're here in me bed," he managed in a strained voice. "I'll just pretend ya were wanting help cleaning behind your fridge or something of that nature."

She gave him a nod of feigned innocence. "Oh yes, of _course_ that was all I wanted." She assured unconvincingly, batting her eyelashes before reaching out and laying a hand on his bare chest.

His eyes locked on her hand.  
He let out a long, trilling whimper.  
Cordelia smirked triumphantly.

After a moment, his features twisted worriedly. "Wait a sec…did I fall asleep without…?" He began to ask in a thoroughly panicked voice, noting that he was in his boxers. In all his life, he had never _once _managed to undress and get under the covers when he was hammered. So…did that mean…that _Cordelia _had_…? _

"Never mind that, go on, you were saying something about being strong and flexible?" She coaxed as her fingers swirled in his chest hair.

He closed his eyes, trying to form thoughts despite the implications of his current lack of clothing and the way her fingers were traveling just a _tiny bit_ lower with each swirling motion. "Umm…right, stronger and more flexible…and things look different…I mean me vision is effected which took a while to get used to." He managed by some miracle.

Her intrigue at that response caused her fingers to pause in their torture. "What do you mean 'different'? Like how?"

"Well, the thing of it is, I can kinda see…I guess it's a person's life or aura or energy, I don't know what to call it. And I can see their heart beating that way; it's like a pulse in the light. Does that make sense?" He asked, looking up at her hopefully. Now that he was saying this aloud, it seemed to lose something.

"Uh, _yeah_ it makes sense, not to mention the fact that it's totally freaking _awesome!_ Here, do me!" She said with a grin as she rolled over onto her back. Seeing the way his eyes bulged and jaw dropped open, she smacked his arm and laughed. "Not 'do me' as in '_**do**_ me' – well, at least not _yet_…" She said mischievously. "But 'do me' as in look at my aura and tell me what you see."

He frowned and shook his head vigorously, which Cordelia found unbelievably adorable.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" She demanded, fighting to suppress a smirk.

"I don't want to…you know…go _'demon-y'_ in front of you." He said with a self-conscious shrug.

"And just why the hell not?" She huffed. "Firstly, I've already seen it. You're not hiding some big secret anymore; you're out of the closet! Be free! Secondly, to answer your earlier question, _no_ – you did _not_ fall asleep like this. Which means you can drop the bashful act, bub. I've seen a _whole lot _more of you for the first time in the last 24 hours than your demon face." She said, waiting until his jaw dropped open to wink at him.

"_Delia!" _He cried in astonishment. How was he supposed to continue his restraint when she was stripping him down while he was unconscious? And how was he supposed to act like he did not find that revelation to be _incredibly_ hot?

"Oh shut up, you loved it." She teased in a throaty, seductive voice, letting him stare at her in shock for a moment longer before bursting out laughing. "I'm _kidding!_ God, chill out, I didn't date-rape you or anything. I just wanted to get those dirty, yucky smelling clothes off. You fought a demon at Bram's Bar for Beasties last night that smelled like a horrible combination of sewage, garbage, armpit, foot, and ass. _Which_ reminds me, now that you're awake; you really, seriously need to go take a shower."

Giving himself an experimental sniff, he winced at the truth of that statement. When Cordelia suddenly started averting her eyes, he replayed her words knowing she must have ratted herself out about something. "Wait…_Bram's_…ya weren't there with me when I was fighting…" He said in confusion before his features hardened. "In fact, I'd have _never _let ya to go in there, not even for a case, not even if I'd consumed a _swimming pool_ full of scotch. What the hell were ya doing in a place like that, Cord?" He demanded.

"Err..." She scrunched up her face guiltily. "Looking for you?" She tried, knowing this would likely result in a hissy fit.

And it did.

"_What?!" _He cried in horror. "Ya could have been killed! How did ya even know I'd gone there? I didn't tell anyone where I was heading!" He screeched, his voice cracking at the thought of her mixing with that lot. He felt nauseous considering what would have happened if she had announced to the wrong demon that she was 'a friend of Doyle'.

"I didn't know you had gone _there_…I just sorta…checked out all the bars I'd heard you mention." She confessed which of course resulted in another horrified, shrieked exclamation of…

"_WHAT?"_ Despite the pain, he sat upright in bed, staring at her in wide-eyed shock for a moment before holding his face in his hands. "Oh my God, _oh my _God. D'ya have _any_ idea what they could have done to ya, princess? They'd not have thought twice about putting ya on the menu for the evening! It's a miracle ya survived to tell the tale!"

Cordelia fought to keep a smile from her lips but it was no use. Seeing him all panicked and stressed at the thought of her putting herself in danger always made her heart flutter. He was just so cute when he stammered and gave away how much he cared for her.

"It wasn't a miracle. I didn't go alone, I'm not that dense." She assured, which made her avert her eyes again, feeling bad for dragging Angel under the bus with her.

"_**Angel**_ _let you _go into those places?" He cried in astonishment. "What the hell is this world coming to if I can't even trust the caped cadaver to keep ya out of trouble while I'm not around?"

"He didn't 'let' me go anywhere. I sorta…_influenced_ his decision to come along as a chaperone." She shrugged.

Doyle looked over at her with an arched brow. "You mean ya told him ya were going and then played on his protective nature to drag him along against his will."

"Tomato, to-mah-to," She said with an overly dramatic dismissive wave. "The point is he refused to help when I asked where you might have gone so I had to come up with another tactic."

Maintaining a scowl became impossible as Doyle imagined Angel trying to dodge questions from a thoroughly bound and determined Cordelia. "Well…I'm glad you're all right, darling." He breathed. "But no more of that nonsense, d'ya hear me? I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to ya on account of me."

"Got it." She agreed, smiling at the relief on his face at those words. "Now go get a shower before I stop sparing your feelings by pretending you don't stink."

He burst out laughing, shaking his head and climbing from the bed. "Fair enough."

"Got any clean sheets in this rat's nest you call an apartment?" She asked hopefully. When he pulled open a closet door, she quickly stood and held up her hand before he touched them. "Please…allow me."

"Wow, it's really as bad as all tha?" He laughed.

"_Oh _yeah, it _really_ is." She assured with wide eyes, pulling a set of clean sheets and pillow cases from the shelf before closing the door. "How about clean clothes? Well…_boxers_, anyway." She said with a wink, informing him that he would not be covering up any time soon.

With a smirk, he walked over to his dresser, casting amused looks back at her as she happily trailed along after him. He opened the top drawer, motioning for her to go ahead and grab something. He regretted leaving the decision to her, of course, because she took a few moments sifting through his selection of boxers in search of just the right pair.

"These. _Definitely_." She said, holding them out in front of him and trying to picture what he would look like in the black boxer-briefs. As she did, she was sporting a wicked little smile he'd never had the pleasure of seeing before.

Oh, the slap he'd have been given if the tables were turned. He could just imagine her reaction if they were at her place and he was rifling through her panty drawer, carefully selecting what scrap of lace he wanted her to strut around in for his viewing pleasure. If the double standard weren't so damned amusing, he'd have called her out on it. Rolling his eyes and fighting in vain to keep his amusement from his features, he walked into the bathroom and thanked her as she hung them on the rack beside his towel.

"Don't thank me; I'm just making sure you wash away every trace of the yuckiness." She taunted before turning on her heel and exiting the bathroom, mercifully closing the door behind her as she went.

He stayed in the shower a lot longer than necessary, scrubbing away the stench and repeating the process again and again. It was hard to force himself to walk back out there. He was both excited as hell over and dreading to no end what was likely to come next. There were…_things…_she didn't understand about this half-demon business; intimate, surprising things that could not be left unsaid prior to the act. Things he had never even mentioned to _Angel_ because, honestly, there was never a reason to broach the subject. He'd have gladly kept them to himself, mind you, but if she was still gonna press on about wanting to get physical, there was no way of avoiding them. He groaned at that, resting his head against the tiles and postponing shutting the water off for another few minutes.

When he walked back into his room, she sat up straighter on his freshly made bed, taking a choppy breath and commending herself for selecting the jockeys.

"Uh-oh, what's that look for?" He laughed, rubbing a towel roughly over his head and not noticing that she took that opportunity to enjoy the view. He turned and draped the towel over the top of the bathroom door before looking back at her.

_Bless_ his rough towel drying. The result was wildly spiked, glistening black hair that worked _incredibly_ well with his pale skin, crystal blue eyes, and form-fitting black boxer-briefs. Cordelia grinned from ear to ear. Where had this little Irish fox been hiding? Who knew a shower and the removal of all those layers of terrible clothing would make such a drastic improvement? Her heart raced in time with her thoughts.

"Well _hello there_, sexy. I gotta say, you look pretty damned hot with your hair like that." She announced, her grin widening as his cheeks turned a lovely shade of crimson. She walked over in front of him, running her fingers through his damp tresses in wonder. "Maybe you should ask fang-boy to share his expertise in the fine art of applying hair gel. I like this look on you."

"Half dressed and wet?" He joked, only to have it unexpectedly kicked back into his court.

"Hell yeah," she purred in approval.

He shifted awkwardly, unsure of the sudden attraction he found in her gaze. Sure, she'd been trying to jump his bones for a while now, but this was the first time he'd seen the intentions swirling in the chocolate brown of her eyes.

Clearing his throat, he attempted to change the subject. As always, his guilt offered up something that needed to be addressed. "Listen, I got sorta sidetracked earlier when I found out that ya knew about…ya know, me being half-demon…" His brow creased as he forced the words from his lips, they never got any easier to say aloud. "And didn't tell ya this but I gotta now. I am so, _so_ incredibly sorry for the things I said to ya last night, I hope ya can forgive me for being so stupid." He offered sincerely and she smiled up at him. "It was the booze talking, princess, it's why I don't drink that heavy around ya…I just…"

"No," She said, her smile instantly fading as she shook her head sternly. "That's not true."

"It is so!" He insisted frantically, his shoulders slouching as terror gripped him that she was going to refuse his apology. "I'd have never spoken to ya like that otherwise, I swear it! I'm not that kinda…"

Seeing the desperation in his eyes, she held up a hand, cutting his rant short. "I don't doubt that part, _or_ that you're sorry." She clarified. "The part that's not true is that it was 'the _booze_ talking'."

His features twisted in confusion as he stood up straighter. "Come again?" He asked, shifting his weight to his other foot and trying to read her expression. "You've lost me."

"It was your _frustration _talking, the booze just let it have a voice…and you didn't even say anything that was wrong. To tell you the truth, I think that's what shocked me the most." She said with an astonished laugh before sighing and studying his features thoughtfully.

Taking his hand in hers, she led him over to the bed and urged him to sit beside her on it. "What really needs to be said here is that I haven't been fair to you, Doyle. Not for a single second since we've known each other. I've been selfish and stubborn and pigheaded and you were right to finally let me have it."

Doyle's brows drew together worriedly. "I'm sorry, darling…but were ya, by any chance, knocked on the head last night?" He asked, the corner of his mouth turning in a smile as she shoved his shoulder.

"Shut up!" She laughed. "I'm trying to be serious here."

He smiled at her warmly. "Okay," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. "This is me shutting up."

"About damned time," she said, feigning flippancy despite her smirk. "Look, last night I thought a lot about what we've been doing here and I realized something. Both of us were using our little game as a cover. You were using it to keep us from doing anything before I found out about your spiky alter ego…" She sighed and looked into his ever-adoring blue eyes, steadying herself for the confession. "But _**I**_ was using it as an excuse to spend time with you, as a way to avoid facing the fact that I just wanted to be close to you. So I've come up with a plan, do you want to hear it?"

He considered joking around, giving her the old '_would it stop ya if I said no?_' line, but he couldn't. Cordelia Chase had just admitted that she wanted to not only 'spend time with' but also 'be close to' him. He forced himself to nod in response to her question despite his mind reeling at her words.

"If you sit here with me for no less than _five minutes_ in demon form and have a conversation with me…" She began and smirked at the way he tensed, preparing to refuse. "Then I'll give you the answer you've been looking for."

His mouth hung open in surprise, all traces of the repudiation he had been so ready to voice leaving him. Well…damn. He had not been expecting that. Did she really know the answer to his repeatedly posed question? Checking the certainty in her gaze, he realized she quite possibly did.

But he _hated_ his other side, loathed it, abhorred it…reviled it more than anything else in the world… Was the feeling in his chest and stomach every time he saw her smile, the love that had been growing for her since the first day they met enough to counterbalance all that self-hatred? He looked down at his sheets and away from those deep brown eyes of hers. What she was asking wasn't exactly as simple as it sounded and she damned well knew it. She was asking him to do something he had never been able to before, something he had ruined his marriage over because he had been unwilling to face it. She wanted him to let her accept him, wanted him to accept _himself_ before they moved forward.

"Doyle? Can I ask you something?" She said softly, tilting her head to the side. He nodded cautiously; obviously afraid of hearing whatever she was going to say. "If, before I knew about this, I had been in danger…if I was _dying_…" His head instantly came back up; she had his complete and undivided attention now. He stared at her with a wounded expression as she took his hands in her own. "And there was no way for you to help me in your human form, would you change to save me?"

"Of course!" He answered quickly, almost before she had finished the question.

"Are you sure?" She pressed, searching his eyes intensely. "I want you to really think about this."

He frowned; trying to come up with a scenario of her being in danger and the effect it would have on his state of mind. What if he'd come out of the office the night that vamp attacked her and found that it was already feeding from her? What if every single fraction of a second had counted? Trying to pull a hungry vamp off its meal as a human was damned near impossible. In demon form, he would be able to overpower it no problem. He'd done what she asked, had thought it through and the decision was still easy.

He nodded in absolute certainty. "I would."

"Then why are you treating your demon side like it's someone else?" She asked, smiling as he shifted under the weight of those words. "If that side of you still cares enough about me to protect me, don't I deserve to get to know that face, too?"

"But…" He tried, desperately searching for an argument.

"You don't have anything to be ashamed of, Doyle." She assured sweetly, giving his hand a squeeze of support. "Not with me."

After sighing and fidgeting and clearing his throat and everything else he could come up with in an effort to postpone the inevitable, he finally closed his eyes and let his face change.

"Open your eyes." She instructed, waiting for him to reluctantly peer up at her. She grinned. "See?" She said, holding her arms out. "Still here. Still not freaking out or anything."

He nodded and tried to force a smile for her despite his anxiety. The level of exposure he was experiencing in that moment was a thousand times worse than that dream everyone has about going to school or work naked. This went deeper than the skin, what she was seeing was something he guarded a hell of a lot more vigilantly than his birthday suit. He looked down at his hands shyly, hating (for once) the feeling of her eyes on him. His skin felt like it was crawling, his revulsion for his appearance searing every inch of it.

"_Oh_…" She breathed in surprise.

His head instantly came up and he cast her a worried look. This was it, she was about to start the backpedaling, he just knew it. This wasn't some dimly lit room she was getting a brief glance of him in, she was seeing him in perfect detail and it made his chest constrict horribly. He tensed up in expectation, waiting for her to stand from the bed and offer up an excuse for why she needed to get out of there and never come back…

Instead, her hand wandered experimentally over his shoulder and down his arm. His features twisted in puzzlement, the action making him curse every spike on his brow. "What's the matter?" He asked, following her gaze and looking down at himself.

"Nothing's '_the matter'_…it's just…you're…" She tried, blinking repeatedly. Knowing how self-conscious he was in that moment, she tried to phrase this somewhat delicately. It wasn't easy to accomplish, as she had once advised him, her way was to think it and say it. However, words were threatening to tumble from her lips that would make him blush right through the green for sure. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady. "You're a lot more…_toned_…when you're like this, huh?"

Emerald complexion and cobalt spikes aside? His body was even more intriguing to her now than it had been '_half dressed and wet'_. True enough, the most drastic change and the one that drew her immediate notice was his face…but his body was _thicker_…more solid in demon form. The sinew of his muscles showed through his skin and yeah, it was enough to make blindingly apparent the reasons why he was 'stronger' like this. Regardless of supernatural strength, he probably weighed a good thirty pounds more as a Brachen. Not a pound of it was fat.

"Oh…yeah…" He said with an embarrassed shrug. "I s'pose I am, a bit." _Oh God, did he really need to get into this yet?_ NO.

Clearing her throat and telling her eyes to stop staring unblinkingly at his markedly larger chest, she attempted to carry on the 'conversation' she had insisted they have during these five minutes. "So…how's my aura looking?" She asked, trying to give a smile that did not relay how _seriously _worked up she was.

Checking out a demon? She was struggling to wrap her mind around the foreign concept.  
Accepting that it was part of Doyle, the _guy_ she was checking out, and that it would make an appearance occasionally? Sure – that was no big whoop.  
But finding him _sexier_ while he was rocking his prickly face? That was definitely an unexpected development.

What she didn't know, and what he was certainly not going to mention just yet, was that he had already caught scent of her suddenly heightened…level of intrigue. Not that he understood in the least what was causing it, mind you, but he caught it just the same.

"Your aura's looking just as great as the rest of ya," he said in a strained voice.

Why did she have to be so intoxicating to him when he was like this? Every detail of her beauty was made clearer by his heightened senses. Her graceful features and flawless skin radiated life and warmth and vitality in torrents. He could hear every sound of her body…_the faint rustling of her hair across her shoulders, her breathing, her thundering heart_… He could smell not only the difference in her level of arousal, but also her _shampoo, her soap, her perfume, her sweat, her skin_… He closed his eyes as he breathed her in. She was like a drug, overtaking his senses until the only thing that existed was her.

"Pulse is up a bit, though." He finally whispered huskily, her scent alone was making his discomfort with the situation a distant memory.

She smirked up at him guiltily, willing her heart to slow down and body to wait five minutes before she had her way with him.

Was it weird and wrong on _so many_ levels that she wanted to kiss him right then? Spikes and all? She sure as hell thought so…but that was still the same mouth that had left her stammering and stupefied just a day prior. Her eyes wandered to his lips as she licked her own. Could they pull it off, she wondered? Could she kiss him and not get spiked in the cheek for her efforts? Were they sharp enough to cut her just by touching them? And God, why did she have to be able to read in those red eyes of his that he was only a breath away from losing all his typical Doyle restraint?

As slowly as possible, not wanting to spook him in his moment of uncertainty, she brought her hand to his face. Surprisingly, he actually leaned into her touch slightly, allowing her fingers to experimentally trace between the rows of spikes. She touched the ones closest to his mouth, testing them with her fingertip to see if they would draw blood.

Thankfully, they were hard but not sharp to the touch, they felt more like horns than blades. It seemed they were meant for use in conjunction with his favorite fighting move, the head-butt. She smiled at that, remembering the bar-fight he had started when that creep called her a hooker. Man would he have been sorry if Doyle had gone prickly-faced then. And how cute had Doyle been? Seriously? When he had given her that, "Down, Cord" line and said "everyone just simmer down here, violence is not gonna solve a thing" she had been so royally pissed off at him. She cursed his cowardice in her mind, thinking to herself that this was a prime example of why things could never work between them. Then wham! Out of nowhere he drops the peacemaker act and nails the guy.

Her smile was now as adoring as the one he usually wore when he looked at her. This was her little knight in disheveled / spiky green armor. This was _her _Doyle, all of her Doyle, staring back at her; the good, the bad, and the demon-y.

Without further thought, she was leaning forward slowly, giving him the chance to back away if he wanted to. Apparently, he didn't. She moaned into his mouth in delighted surprise as he gave her another kiss that sent her temperature skyrocketing. The spikes didn't prove to be an issue at all.

His demon senses, however, did. The enticing taste of her now, in addition to the sounds and smells, were like a current of pleasure sweeping him away, breaking down his resolve. He just _wanted_ her, wanted her so badly he couldn't think straight any more, had been starving for this moment for so long and he was so _close _to having it…

When he realized that he had her lying back on the bed beneath him, his hands moving across her stomach and under her shirt, reality hit him like a ton of bricks. He ended the kiss as abruptly as his demon visage vanished, jumping from the bed and backing as far away as possible.

Cordelia opened her eyes in a daze, looking around in confusion for him. Hearing his muffled groan, she turned and found him standing near the door, pressing a hand over his mouth as he fought to regain his senses.

"Oh God…I'm sorry…I…" He mumbled behind his hand.

"What the hell are you sorry for?" She demanded as she sat up. "_Other_ than leaving me hanging here…_again?_"

"It's not so simple as all of that, princess." He insisted.

"It so is!" She cried with an astonished laugh. "I'm here, you're here, the _bed's_ here…what's 'not so simple'?"

He growled in frustration and ran a hand over his face. "All right, _fine_…" He declared finally, trying to work up his courage. "I've got a few things need saying so just…bear with me while I try to figure out how to say them, yeah?"

"Oookaayy…" She said with a smirk.

"Seriously, Cord. Just give me '_yes_'s and '_no_'s and other such general indications that you're following along cuz I don't know if I can convince myself to say this twice. Got it?" He asked, wringing his hands as he began pacing the room in front of her.

He was like a little yo-yo, back and forth, back and forth, all wound up over God only knew what. Seeing his anxiety about broaching the soon-to-be-revealed subject, and the way his cheeks were turning a darker shade of crimson with each passing second, she knew it could only mean one thing. They were about to have a _sex talk_. She grinned, crossing her legs beneath herself and sitting up expectantly. Whatever he was going to disclose was bound to be interesting.

"Yes." She answered purposefully, showing him that she would be on her best behavior.

"Good, right, yeah…" He said nervously, rubbing his chin and still pacing at a maddening speed. "Okay, first things first, with the changing to demon form, I can usually keep it from happening but there are certain…_things_…like pain and sneezing and…_other _sensations…that make me change whether I'm wanting to or not. D'ya understand what I'm saying?"

Her brow arched severely.  
Did he mean what she thought he meant?  
Judging by the way he averted his eyes, that was a big yes.  
So he'd be going prickly-faced during the act…she could deal with that. "Yes." She said with a serious nod.

"Thank God," he breathed, relieved beyond words that he wouldn't need to elaborate on that statement. "Secondly, in case ya were wondering, the spikes only show up on me face…" He began and was cut off by a short outburst of laughter from her.

"_Pfft_…good thing!" She exclaimed with wide eyes and a smirk. When he turned and gave her a pleading look she mouthed, '_sorry!_' and mimed zipping her lips closed. Who knew keeping quiet for two minutes could be so difficult?

"Ya good now? Got it outta your system so I can say the rest of this?" He asked indignantly.

She chewed the side of her cheek to keep herself from smiling. "Yes." She answered in a strained voice.

"Fantastic," he grumbled. "All right, so earlier, when I changed ya said I was more _toned…_and I am…but what ya need to know ahead of time is that there are other…_things…_that change about me in a similar manner…in other _areas _of me body…whilst I'm in demon form." He forced out, his voice cracking slightly.

She tried, as in _really _tried, to prevent a goofy grin from spreading across her lips. After struggling with it so badly that her eyes welled up, she finally lost the battle and grinned ear to ear. Poor Doyle, he was trying so hard to find a delicate way of relaying that Brachens were extremely…_well equipped_ for the purposes of procreation.

"Because of that…_change…_" He continued. "I gotta know, are ya on the pill or anything?" He asked, looking over at her and doing a double-take when he found her grinning. He frowned severely, pointing at her and whining, "Aw, come on, Cord! Don't ya be finding this funny, it's serious!"

"I'm not! I promise!" She insisted, her grin still on her face. "It's not funny; it's freaking _adorable_. You think any girl in her right mind would find the knowledge that you'll be _super-sizing_ during the act to be a _bad _thing." She laughed and he groaned, covering his face with his hand. The portion she could still see was turning bright red.

Why did he have to have get saddled with a condition that required such an awkward conversation before sex? Sorta took all the mystery and romance out of the act. A normal relationship was supposed to progress differently, of that he was sure.

"Well it's a bad thing for the birth control aspect!" He finally complained. "When ya started popping up unexpectedly in me bed, I bought condoms just in case ya wore me down one of these nights…but they aren't exactly gonna do a damned bit of good, now are they?"

Her brows drew together, a look of puzzlement on her face as she tried to figure out why.

"_Ohhh…" _She breathed in understanding. A second later, another "Ohhh?" was breathed in intrigue. So this mid-sex transformation he was warning her about would be drastic enough to break condoms? And her grin was back. "I'm on the pill." She assured happily.

"Good." He said, nodding to himself as he continued pacing. While he became lost in thought, something slowly dawned on her.

"_Wait a second_…" She whispered, her eyes widening. "You wouldn't risk outing yourself to just anybody…oh my God…" She breathed, looking over at him in astonishment. No, it couldn't be. It was too horrible to even consider. "Doyle? Have _you_…at _all _since you found out…since you were _21?_"

He rolled his eyes, biting his lip and quickly pacing in the other direction.

"You _HAVEN'T??!!_" She cried to the back of his head. "But…but…that was like five freaking _years_ ago!"

"Your point being?" He asked, squinting over his shoulder at her and trying to act like it was no big deal, like he hadn't been counting the days.

"So you mean to tell me after you and Harri split up, you became _abstinence boy?_" She demanded.

Doyle sighed. "It's not as if it's something I wanted to do, just didn't have a lot of choice in the matter." He explained reluctantly. "And…it was…_before_ that." He muttered under his breath, as if needing to tell her the truth but not wanting to say it too loudly.

Letting out an exasperated groan, Cordelia squeezed her eyes shut, flailing her hands uselessly as she tried to take in all of this horrifying knowledge.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, _WHOA!" _She finally cried as she opened her eyes. "So you found out you were half-demon and wham! _Just like that,_ you put the kibosh on nookie? With your _wife?_ And you haven't been with anybody since?" She screeched, waiting for him clear his throat and reluctantly nod that it was so. "No wonder you and Angel get along! You're like kindred celibate spirits!"

He frowned at that, hanging his head. "Well…at least I don't brood about it." He grumbled.

"Oh, you brood. You _so_ brood. In a different way, but there is definite brood action going on in the house of Doyle." She insisted. "So wait…if you haven't been with anybody…all these things you're warning me about were…_self-discovered?_" She asked with an intrigued smirk.

He exhaled sharply in disbelief, abandoning his pacing and giving her a mortified look. "Great, Cord – that's just great!" He cried, throwing his hands up in the air. "Was the topic not awkward enough on my end yet for your taste?" He whined.

"I'm just curious!" She laughed, holding up her hands. "Since we're getting all the details out in the open here, I figured I could ask questions."

He grumbled under his breath for a minute in what surprisingly sounded like a different language. Cordelia listened to the unfamiliar accented words intently, wondering if people in Ireland spoke something other than English. She knew barely anything about the country and made a mental note to inquire about that soonish.

"Yeah, it was 'self-discovered'." He finally answered. "I'm not a damned monk. Besides, I was hoping I'd figure out a way to…ya know...keep the change from happening so I could get back to a somewhat normal life. The efforts proved useless, unfortunately, but at least they kept me sane."

"That is so hot." She declared, winking at him when he scowled back at her. "Oh come on! If the tables were turned and I was telling you about my own…_self-discovery_ efforts…you'd be grinning like an idiot right now and you know it."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, his eyes flashing with interest at the idea.

"See?" She laughed. "Told ya so."

He sighed, his shoulders slouching in defeat as he looked down at his feet.

She shook her head, frowning sympathetically at him. Her poor, sweet, little dumbass, Doyle. After five years sex free, he still hadn't let her have a one nighter with him. And then, even after she knew about his demon half, he _still _held off until he had told her every intimate, embarrassing detail. He had wanted her to know exactly what she was getting into, wanted her to have all the facts before deciding whether she still wanted to go through with it. Angel was right; saying that Doyle was 'ashamed' of this was putting it extremely mildly. God, he hadn't even let Harri be with him after he found out and they were _married._ Any jealousy she might have felt for the woman dissolved as she realized he was opening up to her more than he ever had with his ex. He was really putting himself out there, dropping his guard and handing his heart over even if it meant she might shred it into a million pieces.

"That's it, come here." She said, holding her hand out and smirking as he stared down at his feet and shook his head. "_Come on_…you can do it…_that's_ it…" She coaxed with a grin, watching him slowly trudge over to her. "Now, sit down." She urged, waiting for him to take his place next to her on the bed. "Ask me the million dollar question."

He looked over at her warily. "Not so sure I want to." He pouted.

"_Oh _yeah, judging by what happened in this bed a few minutes ago? You definitely _do_." She teased.

Taking a steadying breath, he squinted and readied himself as he looked into her eyes. "Why do ya want to do this with me, princess?"

Cordelia's smile lit up the room. She knew every answer to that question and, after taking a deep breath, began listing them off one by one. After everything he had just shared with her, she felt it only right to lay it all out on the table.

"Because I don't _just_ want to have sex with you, Doyle, I want us to be an item from now on, as in _exclusively_.  
Because it just so happens that I'm crazy in love with your drunken, little, gambling, half-demon ass.  
Because you're just as crazy in love with my snotty, flippant, money-hungry, designer-shoes-craving ass.  
Because no matter how much of a bitch I pretend to be, you always see right through it, always see _me _instead of the bitchiness.  
Because I see your faults and love you anyway.  
Because you see my faults and love me anyway.  
Because you want a princess and I want someone who makes me feel like one.  
Because I wake up in the morning and look forward to getting to the office just so I can hear your accent and see your smile.  
Because you wake up in the morning and can't wait to see what I'm wearing that day and hear me busting your chops.  
Because you're the only person I've ever met who's made me feel like I'm home, like I belong.  
Because I want to make you feel the same way in return, you _deserve _to feel the same way.  
Because wherever you are, that's where I want to be.  
Because wherever I am, that's where you want to be.  
Because as wild and impossible and strange as it may seem, you and I _click_ together.  
Because no matter how different we may seem, you and me are like _so _meant to be."

Silence settled over the room once she was finished. Doyle was staring at her dumbly, trying to get his brain to function in the aftermath of hearing all of that. Slowly, as if it were afraid to surface, a warm smile stole across his lips.

"Yeah?" He asked hopefully, tilting his head to the side and studying her eyes. She nodded that it was true. "So…you and I are…we're…?"

"Dating." She sighed, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "That's right, bub. I hate to break it to you but I'm officially your girlfriend now, which means I get to be even bossier with you than usual." She said as if she was sharing terrible news.

The brightest smile she had ever seen spread across his face. "_Yeah?_" He asked again excitedly, turning toward her and taking her hands in his.

"Yeah, '_yeah'_." She laughed. "And your first order of business as my boyfriend? _Kiss_ your girlfriend, damn it." She instructed with a grin.

"Yes, ma'am." He said with a smile and reached out, running his fingers through her hair and drawing her closer to him.

* * *

**To read is fine,  
To review is divine!**

**A/N: **The "like _so_ meant to be" line was a nod to my all time favorite Cordy/Doyle icon by xsparklex on LiveJournal.


	7. And they lived SMUTILY ever after

**WARNING:****  
HERE. BE. **_**BADGIRL**_**. SMUT.  
**  
Cordelia and Doyle are together, dating, and happy.  
If you don't like smut, you have the option of accepting the previous chapter as the ending and cutting out now.  
Seriously, don't leave me a nasty review after reading this chapter saying that it was too much. I'm giving you a chance to ignore this last installment.

I'm personally classifying this part as **RATED R**, because while it is descriptive, I don't feel it deserves an NC-17 rating.  
You have to go into this with the knowledge that you may very well _disagree_ with me on that.  
It wouldn't be the first time that my definition of regular, run-of-the-mill smut did not correlate with a reader's definition of the same.

At a certain point in the story, I've included a playlist of songs for you to listen to while reading.  
For the full effect, I suggest going to playlist dot com and listening to them in order.

For those of you who want to see how this concludes, in every sexy, sweaty, funny, and wonderfully sweet detail, please continue ;)

* * *

Cordelia let out a relieved sigh when his lips were on hers once more, his tongue dancing with hers in that way that made her lose all sense of her surroundings. It floored her yet again, the effect he had on her, the way he could be so tender and so passionate in the same instant. She smiled into their kiss as he laid her back on the bed gently. Even with how long it had been for him, he was in no rush. He seemed to be testing out every single way he could kiss her, memorizing the sounds she made for each one.

Grudgingly, he broke their kiss long enough to slide her tank top off over her head, taking a moment to savor the sight of her smiling up at him before kissing her deeply. Her soft hands running over his bare shoulders and back earned a deep moan of approval from him. He laughed against her lips at the intrigued '_mmm'_ she made in response.

As he kissed his way across her cheek and down her jaw-line, she opened her eyes, smiling up at the ceiling at the way she felt in that moment. This was the way it was supposed to be. This was what had been missing the first night. He made her feel beautiful, loved, _special_. He always did. She sighed contentedly, her eyes fluttering closed as she offered up her neck to his hungry mouth.

The feeling of his fingertips pressing into her skin, the way he was learning the taste of every new inch he came across made her heart smile. She realized that for the first time in as long as she could remember, she was happy; really, truly, genuinely, blissfully, _stupidly_ happy. She purred at that feeling, wanting to share it. Running her fingers up through his hair, she gently urged him to stop kissing her neck for a second.

With a moan of reluctance and a dazzling, dimpled smile, he complied, gazing down into her eyes questioningly. The afternoon sun filtering in through the windows really did him justice. It was like seeing him in a completely new light. That dark hair and perfectly pale skin, those sparkling blue eyes and even the little laugh lines at their sides…she traced them adoringly.

"I love you, Doyle." She said softly, tilting her head to the side on the pillow and grinning up at him.

"_Mmm_…" He breathed and closed his eyes, her words sending ripples of pleasure through his entire body. His smile widened as he leaned his cheek against her hand. "I'll never get tired of hearing those words from ya, I can tell ya tha." He crooned and she giggled. "I love you too, princess." He assured, leaning down and kissing her sweetly. "_God_, I love ya…_so_ much…" He continued between kisses as they wrapped their arms around one another.

They rolled back and forth across the bed, laughing as it became a competition for who could stay on top longest. Twice they nearly fell over the sides of the small mattress, each time cracking up and catching themselves just in the nick of time. Clothes were peeled away until all that remained was the two of them under the sheets.

"Are we so crazy for this?" She asked with a grin, running her hands over his arms as he held himself up above her. The unlikely pair of strangers thrown together by fate was about to take the next step; strangers who had become friends, friends who had become allies, allies who had become companions, companions now to become lovers.

"I believe ya defined us as being 'crazy in _love'_, darling, and I can live with tha." He said with a wink, pulling the sheets up over his head and disappearing beneath them.

She laughed at the sight of his huddled form slowly moving further down the mattress under the sheet, at least until his hot mouth began leaving a trail of wet kisses across her breasts and stomach. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes switching back and forth between fluttering closed in pleasure and watching every movement of his shrouded descent. A gasp escaped her smiling lips as he nibbled and kissed her thighs. Her breathing grew ragged in anticipation and she reached beneath the sheets for him, stroking the muscles of his neck imploringly. _Closer….closer…closer…almost_…THERE.

* * *

**MUSIC FOR SCENE:**  
"_Right Round"_ by Flo Rida  
"_Underlying Feeling (Adam K & Soha Radio Edit)_" by Sylvia Tosun  
_"Faster Kill Pussycat (Featuring Brittany Murphy)"_ by Paul Oakenfold

* * *

With a blinding, thought-shattering level of pleasure thundering through her, she learned that his tongue was every bit as talented giving those deep kisses between her legs. Every muscle in her body went rigid as he patiently devoted himself to the task of working her toward her end. She gripped his shoulders, her brows drawing together so severely that it was nearly painful as her mouth hung open in astonishment. Unable to form anything even _remotely_ resembling words, she fell back on mews and moans and whimpers and pants to voice her appreciation for his unexpected expertise in this department.

Why hadn't he _told_ her? Why hadn't this been like the _first_ thing that fell from his lips the day they met? Any guy capable of something this…_wow_…should be required to announce it in the introductions. It should have gone something like, "_Hi, Cordelia. My name's Doyle and I've a hurricane tongue that's gonna completely blow your mind. It's nice to meet ya, darling. If you'd like to just lie down now so I can get started, that'll be fine._"

Her eyes refused to stay open; the only time her muscles moved from their locked up position was to twitch in time with the movements of his tongue.

"Doyle…Doyle…I'm…_I'm_…I'm_ gonna_…" She gasped, though the statement was absolutely unnecessary. He was perfectly aware of what she was 'gonna' do. "_Hooolllyy_ shit!" She shrieked, clawing at his back, his pillows, his headboard, and anything else within reach.

Her body was battling two equally undeniable impulses. The first was to grip him by the back of his head and hold him in position (an action that was not needed since he wasn't letting up in the least). The second was to get away from the overwhelming waves of ecstasy he had just unleashed. She had been under the false impression that she knew what an orgasm felt like. Dear, sweet, fluffy _LORD_ had she been wrong. Whatever switch he had just flipped had her moaning and crying out as she crawled up the length of the bed with him following right along after her. She gripped his hair roughly, alternating between trying to drag him off of her and forcing him to press his mouth harder against her. After two of the longest moments of her entire life, she finally collapsed to the bed, covered from head to toe in sweat and moaning his praises incoherently.

With a self-satisfied smirk, he crawled back out from under the sheets, watching in amusement as she covered her face and struggled to slow her breathing. "With the way you're carrying on, you'd think it was the first time that's ever happened to ya, princess." He teased.

Still panting heavily, she cast him a suspicious look, wondering for a second if it was at all possible for him to be unaware of his talent. Seeing the mischief flashing in his eyes she smacked his shoulder playfully. "Oh you just need to shut up. You _know _that what you just did was amazing." She laughed.

"Ah, the differences ya find between boys and men, darling." He taunted with a wink as he kissed her stomach, knowing her previous partner(s) must have been in their teens. "_Mmm_…have to admit, though, I had a bit of an advantage, what with planning all that out in me head so many times. I've been waiting to do tha for a long while." He purred. "Again?" He asked, looking up at her hopefully and her eyes widened.

"Ask me in a few minutes, k?" She said with a smirk.

"Fine by me, so long as ya stay right where ya are." He agreed, running his tongue up the center of her stomach and smiling victoriously at the shiver it caused. "Ya taste so damned good, d'ya know tha? Juices like wine…I'd give up scotch in a heartbeat if I could drink ya every day." He breathed huskily against her skin.

She whimpered at the undeniable sexuality in his voice, her back arching of its own accord in response. "Really?" She asked in a strained voice. "You'd actually quit drinking for me?"

He smiled up at her. "Well in all fairness, I was using it as a means of distraction since I didn't have much else going for me…now that I've got you? I don't foresee a need to be drinking to excess. So, the binge-drinking is already in the rearview. As for occasionally getting hammered, well, I would quit that if ya asked me to, darling, on _one_ condition." He waited for her to look into his eyes curiously. "The next time I get hit with one of them head-cracking visions, I can kick Angel outta the office, put ya up on the desk, and use ya instead of whisky to dull the pain."

She laughed at the thought, and then tilted her head to this side, letting out a little '_hmm'_ as she considered it.

"_Ooh_…all right, I see we're putting tha on the to-do list." He chuckled. "So, ya ready yet?"

She bit her bottom lip thoughtfully, grinning and nodding before quickly covering his head with the sheet. Letting out playful little growls, he eagerly nibbled his way back down her stomach. She threw her head back against his pillows, laughing hysterically as his nibbling tickled her sides. The sound rang out through his once gloomy apartment, chasing away the depression that had hung so heavily in the air for so many years.

Round two was no less mind-blowing. She had a feeling that with the rate he was going, she would be able to ditch her gym membership. Every muscle in her body got a thorough workout during the release he provided. When he came back up the second time, however, she was ready for him. He let out a surprised yelp as she gripped him by the shoulders and tugged him up the length of her.

With all of his blood rushing to the appendage that was now mere _inches_ away from its destination, he smirked down at her. "I'll take it you're ready to get on with it then?" He laughed.

"Hell yeah," she purred, stroking his back enticingly. "No more waiting, you little Irish tease, you've been holding out on me for long enough." She taunted.

"Oh yeah? Is _tha_ what I've been doin?" He whispered.

The look of desire in his eyes made her stomach flip-flop, apparently the teasing was over.

He leaned down to her, kissing her lips deeply, his brows drawing together as he slowly began inching his way inside of her. A long, low moan fell from his lips at the feel of her; that incredible sensation of tightness, wetness, and heat scattering his thoughts in all directions. He pressed his forehead against hers, gasping in ecstasy as he sank into her completely.

"_Damn_, darling, I can't even _begin _to tell ya how good ya feel." He choked out in a hoarse whisper. She moaned incoherently that the feeling was mutual. He could not believe he had managed to go so many years without this…or that he had been able to put off having it with Cordelia for so long. His entire body trembled with the level of restraint it took to hold back now. By the third stroke, he was panting heavily, his heart thundering in his chest.

Cordelia watched every twist of pleasure in his features, knowing that they were reflected in her own. Even with as transfixed as she was in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder just how much larger he was intending to get. He sure as hell wasn't lacking any length or thickness in human form. Why was it always the short, unassuming guys with the great senses of humor and easy smiles who smuggled in the _real_ goods? And why did all the big mouthed, self-obsessed guys always talk a big game only to produce a petite one?

It wasn't long before her wondering about the impending super-sizing was put to an end. He let out a sound of pleasure the likes of which she'd never heard a man make. Turned on beyond belief by his vocalization, her entire body tensed in response. The instant her muscles clamped down around the length of him, it brought on the transformation.

Her eyes snapped open wide.  
Her jaw dropped open uselessly.  
Her fingernails dug into his biceps as they both froze in place.

Staring down at her through a fog of pleasure, he somehow managed to ask in a shaky, anxious voice, "Are ya all right, princess? D'ya want me to stop?"

She shook her head insistently, unable to blink or form words for a long moment. When she finally found her voice, she ground out, "If you do…_or_ change back to human…you're a _dead_ _man_, Doyle."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he studied her intense expression. "So…you're not in pain or anything?"

"_Un-uh_." She whimpered, still staring up at him in astonishment, still digging her fingernails into his skin with every muscle in her body as rigid as a coiled spring.

"So…that's a _good_ thunderstruck look on your face then, is it?" He asked.

"_Uh-huh." _She moaned, nodding her wholehearted agreement.

"Well…even still, how bout we take it slow for a bit, yeah?" He suggested breathlessly, inching out a little before slowly sinking back into her heat.

Her eyes rolled up into the back of her head. Goose bumps covered every inch of her body at the sensation. She gnashed her teeth together, hearing a long, deep moan of approval coming from her throat involuntarily.

This? Was not sex. This? Was something _beyond _sex. She made a vague mental note to be careful when she got a chance to go down on him, lest she wind up with a broken jaw…or getting impregnated from the opposite direction. He had to be hitting her ribcage or something in that moment, she decided. Her body must be moving things aside, eagerly clearing a path for the length and sheer _girth _of him all the way up into her chest cavity.

Okay, that might be a _slight_ exaggeration, but honestly? _Damn_. And as bad as it might sound? Holy hell, it was not an unpleasant sensation.

As he took another leisurely stroke, she pulled him down to her frantically, burying her face against his chest and hungrily kissing his warm flesh through the soft hair. She inhaled his scent desperately trying to breath him all in. Her entire body seemed to be slipping into the primal instincts of the act in a way she never imagined possible. The animalistic _need _she felt for him to go deeper, faster, _harder_…it was beyond rational thought.

He was still trying to hold back though, to pace himself so that he wouldn't hurt her.

Her body would hear none of that. With one hand planted on the bed behind her and the other gripping his shoulders, she pulled herself up off the pillows. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she forced him at least another few inches inside of her.

"Oh _fuck _yeah!" She moaned in ecstasy, her head rolling back and hair hanging wildly behind her. She didn't even notice that she had dropped the seldom-used f-bomb. She wasn't going to let him hold out on her now, not when every nerve in her body was pleading for more.

With a determined look on her face and her eyes locked with the red eyes of her lover, she began rocking her hips against his aggressively.

"_Aww_…God…" He groaned, his body trembling uncontrollably as she started riding him harder. "Are ya…_ooohh…Gooodd_…are ya…sure…?" He whimpered, feeling his hold on his humanity slipping in the face his demon side's urges.

She was way too far gone to be forming words; the only sounds that were leaving her were grunts of pleasure with each collision of their bodies.

With one last growl of defiance, he succumbed to the Brachen in him and lost control, sweeping her hand out from beneath her and letting her drop back onto the pillows. Before she could even attempt to return to her previous position, he gripped her ankle, draping one of her legs over his shoulder. She stared up at him drunkenly, spellbound by the increased penetration this position was allowing for.

Without another word, they let go. It was wild and rough and hard and passionate and absolute, irrefutable _rapture_. She found herself gripping the sides of his face, spikes and all, as she kissed him ravenously. And her shy, anxious Doyle had apparently left the building. Every bit of hesitation he'd had for letting this happen was gone now. He couldn't even recall the reasons for his initial restraint anymore.

Over the course of the next hour, she found herself bent into positions that would have made her yoga instructor envious. Neither of them could remember at what point they'd ended up on the floor, or how his lamp had come to be lying in shattered pieces a few feet away from them. Their joint screams echoed through the apartment building but they were too involved in what they were experiencing to be discrete.

Finally, with her legs draped over each of his elbows and his grip on her arms becoming painful (in a good way) he began the tell tale attempts to warn her that he was almost there. Digging her nails into his forearms to prevent him from getting away, she held onto him as tightly as he was to her and shrieked her appreciation as his thrusts became hard and frantic.

Hunching forward and growling at the mind-blowing pleasure of the sensation, he released all of his pent up desire deeply inside of her. Cordelia gasped and moaned as the veritable explosion inside of her took her over the edge with him. She clawed at him desperately, pulling him down to her, wrapping her arms and legs around him possessively as if trying to make sure she got every bit of it.

Once the waves of ecstasy subsided for them both, his body slowly relaxed in her grasp. They each panted and moaned in blissful exhaustion, kissing one another hungrily as his body shifted back to its human form. He let out a groan and rolled over onto the floor beside her, his breathing as ragged as hers.

"_Whoa_." She finally breathed in astonishment, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Likewise." He managed between panting, smiling down at her adoringly and kissing her forehead. "Damn I could go for a smoke right about now."

"How'd we get down here?" She asked in a daze, noting how far they had traveled from the bed.

"I've no idea." He laughed. "But I know it was a hell of a lot of fun making the trip."

"_Oh_ yeah." She agreed. "I think it's fair to say that we're sticking together for the long haul, bub." She said, smirking up at him. "That was pretty much a prime example of 'ruining a girl for all other men'."

"Mmm, can't pretend to be sorry about tha." He teased. "But it's all right, I'm sure you'll be walking just fine in a few…" He stopped, frowning as he considered that statement. "Nah, tha's a lie; we'll never last a few days before doing this again."

"Ya _think?_" She laughed, not sure they were going to last an hour. "I can't _believe_ we didn't do this sooner. All those nights I was just lying there next to you when we could have been…" Her head came up, her brows drawing together in amusement as she finally focused on the wreckage across the room. "…breaking your bed, apparently."

"What?" He cried, looking back and finding that it had collapsed to the floor, the frame lying in splintered pieces. "Eh well, it was worth it."

"Oh! I almost forgot." She said with a grin. "Angel says to tell you, '_congratulations_'."

Doyle burst out laughing, shaking his head at her. "So ya told him ya were coming here on a mission then?"

"Well he didn't buy my story that I was gonna 'go home' last night after we couldn't find you. I didn't know it but he followed me here. When you asked me to leave you alone I only did because I was gonna go to the office to try and figure out what kind of demon you were. He popped out of the shadows and I got to grill him instead of wasting hours reading dusty books." She explained. "Do you know he actually smiled that me and you were gonna get together? Seriously. Angel. _SMILING_."

"I can believe it. He's sorta been rooting for us from the sidelines. Hey, d'ya think we ought call and see if he's in need of any help tonight?" He asked with a frown, realizing it was now nearly sunset.

"He knows how to pick up a phone and dial." She said with a smirk as she crawled on top of him. "And I'm sure he'll understand that something…_came up_…" She teased, waggling her eyebrows as she kissed him.

* * *

**To read is fine,  
To review is divine!**

**A/N: **Well? What d'ya think? :D Other than an epilogue for laughs, this story is at an end. Be sure to let me know if you enjoyed it!


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